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OLD EUROPE'S SUICIDE 



"For History of Times representeth the 
magrnitude of actions and the public faces 
and deportments of persons, and passeth 
over in silence the smaller passages and mo- 
tions of 'men and matters.' " 

—Francis Bacon 



BRIGADIER-GENERAL 
CHRISTOPHER BIRDWOOD THOMSON 

General Thomson comes of an English, family of sol- 
diers. He is about forty-five years old, and has a career 
of active service behind him, having served as subaltern 
four years in the Boer War, then having passed the 
Staff-College, and subsequently having been employed 
by the War Office in Balkan service. 

At the very beginning of the Great War he was en- 
gaged in Staff work at the French front, and in 1915 to 
1917 was the British military representative in the 
Balkans. In the Palestine campaign he saw active ser- 
vice in the field until the occupation of Jerusalem. 

When the Supreme War Council was convened at 
Versailles, Thomson was recalled and was attached as 
British Military Representative in 1918 remaining until 
the conclusion of its peace negotiations. In 1919 he 
retired with rank of Brigadier General — Royal Engi- 
neers. 

He has now entered the field of politics as a member 
of the Labour Party and is the selected candidate for 
Parliament, standing for Central Bristol. He was a 
member of the Labour Party comlmission which recently 
visited Ireland; and his services in the intensive cam- 
paign work of the Labour Party in Great Britain have 
occupied the past year. 



n-^)r 




PETROCRAD 



PEACE 
TREATIES 
-- I9I9 

WORLD WAR 

: 1914 J9I8 ___ 

PEACE OF BUCHAREST ' 

rxr-i_^: 1913 ____!_ 
BALANCE OF POWER I N EUROPE 



PAM- 
OfiJE- GERMANISM 




■ PAN- 
SLAVISM 



SERVIA 



>? Oanu0^ ^ 



MACEDONIA^ BULGARIA 



GREECE 



/^ 




THE PYRAMID OF ERRORS 



OLD EUROPE'S 
SUICIDE 

OR 

THE BUILDING OF A PYRAMID 
OF ERRORS 

An account of certain events in Europe during 
the Period 1912-1919 



By 

BRIGADIER-GENERAL 

CHRISTOPHER BIRDWOOD THOMSON 




New York 

THOMAS SELTZER 

1922 



f in 



Copyright, 1922, by 
THOMAS SELTZER, Inc. 



All Rights Reserved 



^.^^^mO^ 



m -i i^^^'^^ 



g)C' A659909 



A 



DEDICATION 

THIS BOOK IS DEDICATED TO ONE 
I HAVE ALWAYS CALLED 

La Belle Sagesse," 
who greatly 

LOVES HER COUNTRY AND HER 

garden by 
The Sleeping Waters." 



PREFACE 

This book is a retrospect covering the period 1912- 
1919. It begins with the first Balkan War, and ends 
with the Peace Conference at Paris. Many of the events 
described have been dealt with by other writers, and the 
only justification for adding one more volume to an al- 
ready well-stocked library, is that the author was an 
eye-witness of all that he relates and enjoyed peculiar 
opportunities for studying the situation as a whole. To 
impressions derived from personal contact with many of 
the principal actors in this world-drama has been added 
the easy wisdom which comes after the event. With 
these qualifications a conscientious effort has been made 
to arrange the subject matter in proper sequence and to 
establish some connection between cause and effect — 
not with a view to carping criticism, but rather to stress 
the more obvious errors of the past and glean from them 
some guidance for the future. 

It would be a rash statement to say that a European 
conflagration was the inevitable outcome of a little Bal- 
kan War, but metaphor will not be strained by compar- 
ing that same little war to a spark in close proximity to 
a heap of combustible material, a spark fanned in secret 
by ambitious and unscrupulous men, while others stood 
by, and, either from ignorance or indifference, did noth- 
ing to prevent an inevitable and incalculable disaster. 
That, as the present writer sees it, is the parable of the 

ix 



X PREFACE 

Balkan "Wars. And so in the first part of this book, 
which deals with the period 1912-1914, the selfish in- 
trigues of the Central Empires are contrasted with the 
equally vicious proceedings of the Imperial Russian 
Government, with the ignorance and inertia which char- 
acterized Great Britain's Continental policy and with 
the vacillations of the Latin States. In later chapters, 
comments are made on the diplomatic negotiations with 
the neutral Balkan States in 1915 and 1916, on the con- 
duct of the war and on the Treaty signed June 28, 
1919, in the Palace at Versailles. 

The title refers to the downfall of the Central 
Empires, which were the last strongholds of the aristo- 
cratic traditions of Old Europe, both from a social and 
a political point of view. It is submitted that these 
Empires perished prematurely through the suicidal folly 
of their ruling classes. Under wiser statesmanship, 
their autocratic governmental system might have sur- 
vived another century. Germany and Austria-Hungary 
were prosperous States, and were assured of still greater 
prosperity if events had pursued their normal course. 
But pride, ambition, impatience and an overweening 
confidence in efficiency without idealism destroyed their 
plans. They put their faith in Force, mere brutal 
Force, and hoped to achieve more rapidly by conquest a 
commercial and political predominance which, by wait- 
ing a few years, they could have acquired without blood- 
shed. In the end, the military weapon they had forged 
became the instrument of their own destruction. Too 
much was demanded from the warlike German tribes; 
an industrial age had made war an affair of workshops, 
and against them were arrayed all the resources of 
Great Britain and America. Blind to these patent facts, 



PREFACE xi 

a few reckless militarists who held the reins of power 
goaded a docile people on to desperate and unavailing 
efforts, long after all hope of victory had vanished, and 
thus committed suicide as a despairing warrior does who 
falls upon his sword. 

The Prussian military system collapsed in the throes 
of revolution and the rest of Europe breathed again. 
Materialism in its most efficient form had failed, and to 
peoples bearing the intolerable burden imposed by arma- 
ments came a new hope. Unfortunately, that hope was 
vain. With the cessation of hostilities, the suicide of 
Old Europe was not completely consummated. After 
the signing of the Armistice, enlightened opinion, though 
undoubtedly disconcerted by the rapid march of events, 
expected from the sudden downfall of the Central 
Empires a swift transition from the old order to the new. 
The expectation was not unreasonable that four years of 
wasteful, mad destruction would be a lesson to mankind 
and, in a figurative sense, would form the apex of a 
pyramid of errors — a pyramid rising frbm a broad base 
of primitive emotions, through secret stages of artifice 
and intrigue, and culminating in a point on which noth- 
ing could be built. A gloomy monument, indeed, and 
useless — save as a habitation for the dead. 

In an evil hour for civilization, the delegates who met 
to make the Peace in Paris preferred the prospect of im- 
mediate gain to laying the foundation of a new and bet- 
ter world. They, and the experts who advised them, 
saw in the pyramid of errors a familiar structure, though 
incomplete. Its completion demanded neither vision, 
nor courage, nor originality of thought ; precedent was 
their only guide in framing Treaties which crowned the 
errors of the past and placed its topmost block. 



xii PREFACE 

The chickens hatched at Versailles are now coming 
home to roost. Democracy has been betrayed, our 
boasted civilization has been exposed as a thin veneer 
overlaying the most savage instincts. Throughout all 
Europe a state of moral anarchy prevails, hatred and a 
lust for vengeance have usurped the place not only of 
charity and decent conduct but also of statesmanship 
and common-sense. Peoples mistrust their neighbours 
and their rulers, rich territories are unproductive for 
lack of confidence and goodwill. 

These ills are moral and only moral remedies will cure 
them. Force was required, and has done its work in 
successfully resisting aggression by military states now 
humbled and dismembered. But Force is a weapon 
with a double edge, and plays no part in human progress. 

While this book endeavours to draw some lessons from 
the war and from the even more disastrous peace, at the 
same time it pleads a cause. That cause is Progress, and 
an appeal is made to all thinking men and women to 
give their attention to these urgent international affairs, 
which affect not only their prosperity, but their honour 
as citizens of civilized States. The first step in this di- 
rection is to inform ourselves. If, in the following 
pages, a little light is thrown on what was before ob- 
scure, the writer will feel that his toil in the execution of 
an unaccustomed task has been rewarded. 

C. W. Thomson 

London. 
December 6, 1921. 



CONTENTS 

PAGE 

Preface xi 

CHAPTER 

I. A Day on the Danube 1 

II. Belgrade — October, 1912: A View from a 

Window 10 

III. The Battle of Kumanovo 20 

lY. Macedonia— 1912 35 

V. Albania— 1912-1913 49 

VI. The Second Balkan War and the Treaty of 

Bucharest 59 

VII. Two Men Who Died 69 

VIII. "1914" Peace and War 74 

IX. The Neutral Balkan States — 1915 ... 84 

X. Sleeping Waters 99 

XI. The Disaster in Rumania — 1916 .... 108 

XII. The Russian Revolution and the Russo-Ru- 

MANiAN Offensive — '1917 127 

XIII. A Midnight Mass 143 

XIV. "Westerners" and "Easterners" .... 147 

XV. The Peace Conference at Paris — 1919 . . . 161 

XVI. Looking Back and Looking Forward . . . 177 



old; EUROPE'S SUICIDE 

CHAPTER I 
A Day On The Danube 

''When the snows melt there will be war in the 
Balkans," had become an habitual formula in the For- 
eign Offices of Europe during the first decade of the 
twentieth century. Statesmen and diplomats found 
comfort in this prophecy on their return from cures at 
different Continental spas, because, the season being 
autumn, the snow had still to fall, and would not melt 
for at least six months. This annual breathing space 
was welcome after the anxieties of spring and summer; 
the inevitable war could be discussed calmly and dis- 
passionately, preparations for its conduct could be made 
methodically, and brave words could be bandied freely 
in autumn in the Balkans. Only an imminent danger 
inspires fear; hope has no time limit, the most unimag- 
inative person can hope for the impossible twenty years 
ahead. 

Without regard either for prophecies or the near ap- 
proach of winter, Bulgaria, Servia, Greece and Monte- 
negro declared war on Turkey at the beginning of Octo- 
ber, 1912. The Balkan Bloc had been formed, and did 
not include Rumania, a land where plenty had need of 
peace; King Charles was resolutely opposed to partici- 
pation in the war, he disdained a mere Balkan alliance 
as unworthy of the "Sentinel of the Near East." 

Bukarest had, for the moment anyhow, lost interest; 

1 



2 OLD EUROPE'S SUICIDE 

my work there was completed, and a telegram from 
London instructed me to proceed to Belgrade. The 
trains via Budapest being overcrowded, I decided on 
the Danube route, and left by the night train for Or- 
sova, in company with a number of journalists and busi- 
ness men from all parts of Rumania. We reached the 
port of the Iron Gate before dawn, and found a Hun- 
garian steamer waiting; soon after daybreak we were 
heading up stream. 

Behind us lay the Iron Gate, its gloom as yet uncon- 
quered by the sunrise ; on our left the mountains of 
North-Eastern Servia rose like a rampart; on our right 
the foothills of the Carpathians terminated abruptly at 
the river's edge; in front the Danube shimmered with 
soft and ever-changing lights; a stillness reigned which 
no one cared to break, even the crew spoke low, like 
pious travellers before a shrine. War's alarms seemed 
infinitely distant from those glistening waters set in 
an amphitheatre of hills. 

"How can man, being happy, still keep his happy 
hour?" The pageant of dawn and river and mountain 
faded as the sun rose higher; dim outlines became hard 
and sharp; the Iron Gate, surmounted by eddying 
wisps of mist, looked like a giant cauldron. The pas§ 
broadened with our westward progress revealing the 
plain of Southern Hungary, low hills replaced the moun- 
tains on the Servian bank. A bell rang as we stopped 
at a small river port, it announced breakfast and re- 
minded us, incidentally, that stuffy smells are insep- 
arable from human activities, even on the Danube, and 
within sight of the blue mountains of Transylvania. 

My travelling companions were mainly British and 
French, with a sprinkling of Austrians and Italians. 



A DAY ON THE DANUBE 3 

To all of them the latest development in the Balkan 
situation was of absorbing interest, and they discussed 
it incessantly from every point of view. Their atti- 
tude, as I learnt later, was typical, not one of them 
had failed to foresee everything that had happened; 
in the case of the more mysterious mannered, one had 
a vague impression that they had planned the whole 
business, and were awaiting results like rival trainers 
of racehorses on the eve of a great race. These citizens 
of the Great Powers were, in their commerce with the 
Balkan peoples, a curious mixture of patron and parti- 
san. The right to patronize was, in their opinion, con- 
ferred by the fact of belonging to a big country; the 
partisan spirit had been developed after a short resi- 
dence in the Peninsula. This spirit was perhaps based 
on genuine good will and sincere sympathy, but it cer- 
tainly was not wholly disinterested. There was no rea- 
son why it should have been. No man can, simultan- 
eously, be a good citizen of two countries ; he will nearly 
always make money in one and spend it in the other. 
Patriotism is made to cover a multitude of sins, and, 
where money is being made, the acid test of political 
professions is their effect on business. 

Listening to the conversation on the steamer I was 
astonished by the vivacity with which these self- 
appointed champions urged and disputed the territorial 
claims of each Balkan State in turn. Remote historical 
precedents were dragged in to justify the most extrava- 
gant extension of territory, secret treaties were hinted 
at which would change the nationality of millions of 
peasants, and whole campaigns were mapped out with 
a knowledge of geography which, to any one fresh from 
official circles in London, was amazing. 



4 OLD EUROPE'S SUICIDE 

From breakfast on, the babel of voices continued, 
and it was curious to note how the different nationali- 
ties grouped themselves. The British were, almost to 
a man, pro-Bulgar, they wanted Bulgaria to have the 
greater part of Macedonia and Thrace, some of them 
even claimed Constantinople and Salonika for their 
proteges; they were on the whole optimistic as to the 
success of the Allies. The French and Italians urged 
the claims of Servia, Greece and Rumania in Macedonia ; 
in regard to Albania the French were in favour of divid- 
ing that country between Servia and Greece, but this 
latter suggestion provoked vehement protests from the 
Italians. The three Austrians hardly joined in the dis- 
cussion at all, one of them remarked that he agreed 
with the writer of the leading article in the Neue Freie 
Presse of a few days back, who compared the Balkan 
Peninsula to a certain suburb of Berlin, where there was 
one bank too many, and where, as a consequence, all 
banks suffered. In the Balkan Peninsula, according to 
this writer, there was one country too many, and a 
settled state of affairs was impossible until one of them 
had been eliminated; he didn't say which. 

I asked whether a definite partition of the territory 
to be conquered was not laid down in the Treaty of 
Alliance. No one knew or, at least, no one cared to 
say. There seemed to be a general feeling that Treaties 
didn't matter. The journalists were in a seventh heaven 
of satisfaction at the prospect of unlimited copy for sev- 
eral months to come; the business men expected to in- 
crease their business if all went well. On that Danube 
steamer the war of 1912 was popular, the future 
might be uncertain, but it was full of pleasant possi- 
bilities. 



A DAY ON THE DANUBE 5 

I thought of London and remembered conversations 
there three weeks before the declaration of war. The 
general opinion might have been summarized as fol- 
lows : The Bulgars were a hardy, frugal race, rather like 
the Scotch, and, therefore, sympathetic ; they were ruled 
over by a king called Ferdinand, who was too clever 
to be quite respectable. As for Servia, the British con- 
science had, of course, been deeply shocked by the mur- 
der of the late King, and the Servian Government had 
been stood in the diplomatic corner for some years, but 
the crime had been more or less expiated by its dramatic 
elements and the fact that it had taught everybody a 
little geography. King Nicholas of Montenegro was a 
picturesque figure and had an amiable habit of distri- 
buting decorations. In regard to Greece, there were 
dynastic reasons why we should be well disposed to- 
wards the descendants of the men who fought at Mara- 
thon, not to mention the presence in our midst of finan- 
cial magnates with unmistakably Greek names. Lastly, 
the Turks. In London, in 1912, these people enjoyed 
considerable popularity; they were considered the only 
gentlemen in the Balkans, the upper-class ones of course. 
Admittedly Turkish administration was corrupt and the 
Turks had a distressing habit of cutting down trees 
everywhere, but their most serious defect was that they 
were a little sticky about affording facilities for Western 
enterprise. This latter consideration was considered 
really important. Matters would improve, it was 
thought, after some changes had been made in the Con- 
sular Service, 

The war had come at last. Few people in England 
knew its cause or its objects; many thought and hoped 
the Turks would win. We had played the part of stern 



6 OLD EUROPE'S SUICIDE 

moralists when a debauched and tyrannical youth re- 
ceived summary justice at the hands of his outraged 
subjects, but we watched lightheartedly the preparations 
for a struggle which would soak the whole Balkan Pen- 
insula in blood. 

Night was falling as we passed under the walls of 
the old fortress of Belgrade. During the last hour the 
conversation had taken a purely business turn about 
coal concessions in the Ergene Valley ^ and a French 
company which was being formed to exploit Uskub. 
Both localities were in Turkish territory, but would 
change their nationality after the war, if the Balkan 
Allies were the victors. 

The steamer ran alongside the jetty; the journey 
Avas, for most of us, at an end. Every one was in high 
spirits; the near prospect of dinner in an hotel had 
produced a general feeling of optimism in regard to the 
Near Eastern question. One felt it wouldn't be the 
fault of any one on our steamer if things went wrong. 
Our advice would always be given gladly and ungrudg- 
ingly, and we would accept any responsibility except 
that of putting into execution our own plans. We con- 
sidered we were playing quite an important part in the 
Balkan drama, but, belonging as we did to big coun- 
tries or Great Powers, once the fighting began we were 
forced to stand aside. 

Belgrade seemed half asleep already. The city is 
built on a ridge overlooking the junction of the Save 
with the Danube. From the quay a long line of white 
houses was visible, flanked at one end by the Cathedral 
and a dark mass of trees, at the other by a large, ugly 
building, behind which stands the Royal Palace. Lights 

1 The Ergene is a tributary of the Maritza and lies In Turkish Thrace. 



A DAY ON THE DANUBE 7 

were few and far between, the aspect of the town was 
cold and inhospitable, it was evidently no busy centre 
eager to swallow up travellers and take their money. 
The Servian capital has nothing to offer to pleasure seek- 
ers, and sightseers must be content with scenery. Across 
the river, half a mile away, the lights of the Semlin cast 
a glare upon the sky, one could even hear faintly the 
strains of a Hungarian military band. 

Only three of my fellow travellers remained on the 
landing stage ; they were Austrians. Two of them were 
going to Semlin in the steamer, the third was, like myself, 
waiting for his baggage to be disembarked. This man 
and I were to see a good deal of each other during the 
months that followed; he was the Austrian Military 
Attache at Belgrade. 

The steamer whistle gave the signal for departure 
and farewells were exchanged. Just before stepping 
on board, one of the departing Austrians said, "Well, 
Otto, when next we meet I suppose the Turks will be 
here," to which the military representative of the Dual 
Monarchy replied, "The sooner the better." He then 
got into his cab and drove off to the house where, for 
three years, he had enjoyed all the privileges due to his 
diplomatic functions. 

I had spent the whole day with a crowd of talkative 
and communicative men, but, as a rickety old cab took 
me up the hill towards the town, I remembered more 
distinctly what the comparatively silent Austrians had 
said than anything else that I had heard. These men 
seemed to mix up private business and politics less than 
the others; they gave the impression of thinking on big 
lines, of representing a policy of some sort. 

In October, 1912, many people still believed that the 



8 OLD EUROPE'S SUICIDE 

British Government had a Balkan policy. The war had 
been foreseen for so many years, its repercussion on Asia 
Minor and the whole Mohammedan world could hardly 
fail to be considerable, while the risk of the conflagration 
spreading, so as to involve all Europe, was universally 
recognized. Under such circumstances, it seemed incred- 
ible that those responsible for the maintenance of the 
British Empire would leave anything to chance. Of 
course, we British had a policy, but personally I hadn't 
the faintest idea what it was, nor, for the moment, could 
I think of any one who had. 

At last the hotel was reached. A sleepy "concierge" 
showed me to my room, a vast apartment whose out- 
standing feature was its painted ceiling. This work of 
art was oval in shape and consisted of a vault of almost 
inky blue spangled with stars, round which were cherubs 
and angels in appropriately exiguous costumes. The 
subject was perhaps meant to be a celestial choir, but 
the artist had somehow missed his mark; the faces were 
neither angelic nor cherubic; they wore an air of mys- 
tery not unmingled with self-satisfaction. The figures 
emerged in stiff, conventional fashion from the edges of 
the ceiling into the central blue, and, if it hadn't been 
for their lack of dress and look of conscious superiority, 
they might have been a collection of quite ordinary men, 
gathered round an oval table stained with ink. One of 
the cherubs bore a strong facial resemblance to a distin- 
guished diplomat of my acquaintance ; he was whisper- 
ing something in his neighbour's ear, and the latter 
seemed amused. The neighbour was a cherub, not an 
angel ; he had a queer, wizened face of somewhat Slavonic 
type. 

I was tired out, but I did not sleep well. I had been 



A DAY ON THE DANUBE 9 

thinking about British policy in the Balkans before I 
fell asleep, and had strange dreams which were almost 
nightmares. It was all the fault of the ceiling; that 
cherub was so exactly like the diplomat and I dreamed 
he was telling the other one a secret, this explained the 
whispering, and that it was an important State secret, 
connected with my visit to Belgrade. 

Who knows? The artist who had painted that hide- 
ous ceiling may have done so in a mood of irony. He 
may have chosen, as models for his cherubs, some well- 
known personages engaged in propping up a crazy struc- 
ture known as "the balance of power in Europe." 



CHAPTER II 

Belgrade — October, 1912 

a view from a window 

Mobilization was nearly completed when I paid my 
first visit to the Servian War Office, an unpretentious 
building situated half way down a side street leading 
from the Royal Palace to the River Save. On enter- 
ing, I congratulated myself that, at last, I was to meet 
and speak with a real Servian ; hitherto I had met nearly 
every other nationality in the legations, hotels, and other 
places frequented by visitors to foreign capitals. At 
the time of my visit, the only society in Belgrade con- 
sisted of foreign diplomats; the hotels were managed 
and staffed by Austrians, Swiss and Italians; the roads 
were being paved by an Austrian contractor, employing 
Austrian workmen and, according to current gossip, the 
country was being ruled by the Russian Minister. 

Now that hostilities were imminent, I presumed that 
the Servians would be allowed to do their own fighting. 
This supposition proved to be correct, the Great Powers 
had decided not to interfere in what was a purely Balkan 
struggle, they intended to keep the ring and see fair 
play. 

So much I had already learned in Belgrade, from 
people in a position to know and who seemed to know 
most things except the authentic Plan of Campaign 
Their resentment at not being given this was evident, 

10 



BELGRADE, OCTOBER, 1912 11 

and when asked the reason, they would reply that they 
wanted to communicate it to their respective govern- 
ments and War Offices, in the strictest confidence of 
course. The Servian General Staff had kept their secret 
well, far too well for the cosmopolitan band who earned 
their living by acquiring and circulating strictly confi- 
dential information. I did not expect to solve the mys- 
tery myself, but the prospect of getting to close quar- 
ters with its authors gave me some satisfaction. I had 
begun to admire these men one never met, who didn't 
seem to ask for advice, though they often got it, and 
who were shouldering the responsibility for Servia's 
future action. 

After being conducted to an upstairs room, I was 

asked to wait, Colonel (then followed two names 

which I didn't quite catch, but noted mentally as begin- 
ning, respectively, with a "G" and a "P") begged to be 
excused for keeping me waiting, but would come as soon 
as he could; an unexpected visitor had arrived whose 
business was urgent. This information was imparted 
by a young staff officer, in excellent German, his mes- 
sage given, he left me alone with some straight-backed 
chairs, a table with a green baize cover, three pictures, 
and a large bow window facing north. 

The pictures were poor. One was a portrait of King 
Peter, whose brilliant uniform recalled a play I had 
seen just before leaving London. Another represented 
a battle between Servians and Turks, dagger and axe 
were being used freely, the ground was strewn with dead 
and wounded, horsemen were riding over foe and friend 
alike, some at a dignified walk, others galloping madly, 
but all seemed equally indifferent to the feelings of the 
men on the ground. The meeting between Wellington 



12 OLD EUROPE'S SUICIDE , 

and Blucher after Waterloo, as conceived by a nine- 
teenth-century artist, was child's play compared to this 
battlepiece. The third picture portrayed three horse- 
men in rich attire riding abreast along a woodland glade 
followed by their retainers. The scene was historical; 
it was the last ride of the centre horseman, a former 
reigning prince, whose companions, and incidentally his 
kinsmen, had assassinated him in that very glade. 

These pictures were only too typical of Servia's past 
history ; they explained the worn, anxious expression on 
the old King's face and, seen for the first time on the 
eve of yet another war, gave food for reflection. Human 
nature seemed unchanging and unchangeable ; history 
was about to repeat itself in battles and murder, 
hatred and anger, suffering and death. Modem weapons 
would replace the dagger and the ax and the men on 
horseback would be provided with motor cars: these 
would be the only differences. 

It is usually better to ride than to walk. Philosophers, 
as a rule, prefer the latter form of progression ; perhaps 
that is why so few of them have been kings and why 
cities so seldom ' ' rest from their evils. ' ' 

My sole remaining distraction was the window. It 
commanded a wide view over the Save and Danube val- 
leys and looked straight down on the great railway 
bridge which links Servia with Central Europe. At the 
far end of the bridge a Hungarian sentry was clearly 
visible, and all along the Save's Hungarian bank were 
earthworks and searchlights. Away to the right, and 
about a mile distant, were the barracks of Semlin; 
rumour said they were full to overflowing. 

Austria-Hungary was watching her small Southern 
neighbour mobilize and taking a few precautionary meas- 



BELGRADE, OCTOBER, 1912 13 

ures, in order, no doubt, to be in a better position to 
keep the ring. 

Standing at the open window in that quiet room, 
I felt I was learning more about Serbia's real position 
than could possibly have been gleaned from all the talk 
on the Danube steamer. Perhaps it was the instinct 
of an islander, but, as I looked across the river, I had 
a feeling of vague uneasiness, amounting almost to 
physical discomfort; an immensely greater force was 
there, passive but watchful, and it was so near, within 
easy range of field artillery. 

I remembered being taken in my childhood to see the 
snakes fed at the Zoo. Two monster reptiles lay motion- 
less in a glass case. Some live rabbits were inserted, and 
at once began to frisk lightheartedly round their new 
quarters. Suddenly one of the reptiles raised its head; 
all movement ceased for a brief moment; each rabbit 
crouched, paralysed by terror; the dry, merciless eyes 
of the python travelled slowly round the cage, his mate 
stirred expectantly, and then ! The horrid, darting jaws 
did their work — one by one those poor rabbits disap- 
peared. I recollected having been especially sorry for 
the last one. In Central Europe, at least one python 
State lay north of the Danube, and to the south were 
rabbit States, embarking on a ghastly frolic. 

Bathed in bright October sunlight, the scene before 
me was both varied and splendid. The town lay imme- 
diately below, beyond it the river and vast spaces framed 
by mountains, some of them so distant that their pres- 
ence was suspected rather than perceived. The line of 
junction between the Save and Danube was clearly de- 
fined, the white waters of the former confounding them- 
selves reluctantly with the Danube's steely blue. Both 



14 OLD EUROPE'S SUICIDE 

rivers seemed to tell a story; the Save told of moun- 
tains, of turbulent, oppressed peoples and their hopes 
and fears; the Danube of plains and rich cities, of old 
Europe's last triumph over Islam, of heroes and con- 
querors, its broad stream carried the echoes of Ulm and 
Ratisbon, Vienna and Buda Pesth. 

Here, at Belgrade, the great river seemed to have 
found a new task — the task of dividing an ancient 
empire with immemorial traditions from new States and 
young peoples, who still retained a bitter memory of 
the Turkish yoke. Here began a divided allegiance, an 
unnatural schism between the river's banks. It 
was as though the Save had brought down trouble from 
the mountains ; the white line of foam which marked the 
meeting of the waters was a symbol, a symbol of eternal 
discord between the past and present. 

The door opened and a short, thick-set man in the 
uniform of a Colonel of the Servian General Staff 
entered the room; he spoke in German, but with some 
difficulty, and excused himself for having kept me wait- 
ing. Then followed the usual commonplaces, in which 
he expressed his admiration for the British character 
and our free institutions, while I assured him of the 
deep interest taken by all classes at home in the future 
prosperity and development of Servia. 

I asked about the mobilization, and he answered that 
it had astonished even the most optimistic : 98 per cent, 
of the reservists had joined the colours, many of them 
bringing carts and bullocks as free-will offerings. The 
declaration of war had been received with boundless 
enthusiasm by the peasants, and volunteers were flocking 
in from every part of the kingdom. The field army was 
well equipped. The question of transport had presented 



BELGRADE, OCTOBER, 1912 15 

many difficulties, but had been solved by ruthlessly cut- 
ting down every human requirement to the absolute min- 
imum ; this was possible, he explained, because the Serv- 
ian peasant soldiers could live on very little, but I would 
see for myself before long. Ammunition ? For the first 
time he hesitated. Yes, there was enough for a short 
campaign, if the strictest economy were exercised — for 
six months, perhaps ; but it was difficult to estimate ex- 
penditure as, except for the Manchurian war, there were 
no data to go on. I suggested that stocks could be re- 
newed. He flushed a little and replied that most of 
Servia's arms and ammunition came from Austria. 

Unconsciously, on my part anyhow, we had moved 
to the window, and while the Colonel was talking I 
noticed the almost uncanny frequency with which his 
eyes sought the far bank of the Save. Such restless 
eyes they were, light grey in colour. One could imag- 
ine them blazing with anger, but occasionally one caught 
a hunted look, as though they had known fear. Colonel 

G P , like most Servian officers, was of peasant 

origin. The King himself was the grandson of a swine- 
herd. There had been a time in Servia when every man, 
who could, had transferred his family and household 
goods to what is now called Montenegro, so great had 
been their terror of the Turks. The poorer peasants 
had remained and had borne the tyrant's yoke; their 
descendants, of either sex, retained the furtive, quailing 
glance of ancestors who had lived in dread. Even the 
little children had this look of atavistic fear. 

The grey eyes softened when he spoke of the peasants, 
their simplicity, their endurance, and their faith in ulti- 
mate victory; his one idea seemed to be to give a fair 
chance to these peasant soldiers; to avoid political com- 



16 OLD EUROPE'S SUICIDE 

plications at home and abroad and, above all, to get 
the ammunition up to the front line. 

I looked instinctively across the river; the key of the 
whole situation was there. He must have guessed my 
thoughts, for the conversation turned at once to more 
general questions. The Colonel was convinced that the 
Great Powers would not interfere ; their neutrality might 
even be benevolent. He had just received from the 
Austrian Military Attache (the visitor who had kept 
me waiting) most satisfactory assurances in regard to 
the supply of ammunition. Belgrade would be entirely 
denuded of troops, as also the whole northern frontier. 
This had been rendered possible by the assurance that 
there was no danger of interference from the North; a 
Servian force would occupy the Sanjak of Novi Bazar! 
He noted my surprise, and added quickly, "With the 
full knowledge of the Austro-Hungarian Government." 
The main army would advance on Uskub (he gave the 
town its Servian name of Skoplje). On its left would 
be a mixed Serbo-Bulgar army, and on its right the 
Third Servian Army under one of their best generals. 
All the three armies would converge on Uskub, near 
which there would probably be the first big battle. 
Uskub was the first objective. He insisted that it was a 
genuine Servian town. The Emperor Dushan had held 
his Court there in the great days of old Servda. Fur- 
ther south, lay Monastir and Salonika, the real prizes, 
of these he did not speak, and I refrained from putting 
inconvenient questions, I had learned so much already. 

A chance reference to Servia's economic and indus- 
trial situation provoked an almost passionate outburst 
from this hitherto self-contained man. Servia needed 
a port, it was her only means of gaining economic inde- 



BELGRADE, OCTOBER, 1912 17 

pendence. Hitherto, Austria had held Servia by the 
throat, but with an outlet to the sea his country could 
work out its own salvation. He reeled off some astound- 
ing statistics in regard to the population of the eastern 
Adriatic seaboard between Trieste and Montenegro. I 
ventured to suggest that Austria would not lightly relax 
her hold on such valuable possessions — as Cattaro, for 
example. He assented, but repeated with vehemence, 
" Servia 's first economic objective must be an Adriatic 
port," Durazzo or San Giovanni di Medua would do — 
to begin with. When I enquired how it was proposed to 
deal with the Albanians, an ugly, cruel look crept into 
his face as he hissed out a German slang expression for 
extermination. The Albanians were, in his opinion, 
nothing more nor less than thieves and murderers for 
whom there was no place in the Peninsula. 

I was beginning to understand. The war about to 
commence was only the first phase; success would give 
to Servia sufficient territory and economic independence 
to enable her to prepare for a greater and inevitable 
struggle with Austria-Hungary. The pitfalls were 
many. No one realized the difficulties more fully than 
the man standing with me at that window, who was even 
anxious to expose them in his eagerness to gain a little 
sympathy. He knew that wise and wary statesmanship 
would be required in handling the Bulgarian question. 
The hot-heads at home would have to be restrained. At 
all costs peace with Bulgaria would have to be main- 
tained, and this w^ould be difficult. Servia had her 
megalomaniacs who were impatient and heedless of pru- 
dent counsels, whose aspirations in regard to national 
aggrandizement were boundless, who wanted to do every- 
thing at once and brooked no delay. 



18 OLD EUROPE'S SUICIDE 

Almost two hours had passed, and it was nearly noon 
when I rose to say farewell. While expressing my best 
wishes for Servia's success in this first phase of her 
great adventure, I remarked that, presumably, Belgrade 
would cease to be the capital after Uskub had been taken 
and the Albanian coastline reached — a more central and 
less exposed position seemed desirable for the Royal 
residence and seat of Government. His answer was em- 
phatic — Belgrade must always remain the capital, the 
Save was not the northern frontier of old Servia; all 
that — and he waved his hand towards the north — was 
Servian territory right up to and beyond Karlovci, 
which, at one time, had been in the diocese of a Servian 
bishop. 

When I left the Servian War Office that day I had 
forgotten all about rabbits and pythons; those dauby 
pictures portrayed the past, the future was the only 
thing that mattered. A passionate drama would shortly 
enact itself under the eyes of a cynical, unbelieving 
Europe ; in that drama Servia would play a leading part 
and, if Colonel G P was typical of his country- 
men, the final act would find another setting than the 
Balkans. From an open window this man had looked 
out upon a spacious and inspiring scene, had caught its 
message, and, no more a mere official speaking a foreign 
tongue, had found the rugged eloquence of a true soldier- 
statesman. He might have been a Servian Cromwell; 
such men are dangerous to their oppressors. 

An irresistible craving for quiet and solitude had over- 
come me. I drove to a place on the outskirts of Belgrade 
close to the Danube's bank, and walked down to the 
river's edge across flat, waterlogged meadows. At this 
point, the troubled Save had found peace in the greater 



BELGRADE, OCTOBER, 1912 19 

stream, a mighty volume of water slid smoothly past the 
sedges, whispering mysteriously; sometimes the whisper 
swelled, and weed and wave, stirred by a passing breeze, 
filled the surrounding space with sighing sounds. 



CHAPTER III 

The Battle op Kumanovo 

Although the Balkan hloc of 1912 was formed by men 
whose motives were as various as their interests and 
personalities, it was based on a correct appreciation of 
the general situation. It offered a prospect of relieving 
the intolerable tension which prevailed in the Balkan 
Peninsula at the expense of the Ottoman Empire, an 
Empire whose natural frontier was in Turkish Thrace, ^ 
and whose administration in South-Eastem Europe had 
been both wasteful and tyrannical. A continuance of 
Turkish sovereignty in Macedonia and Albania had be- 
come an anachronism. Justice, however wild, demanded 
the expulsion of the Turks, and all who knew the history 
of the Balkans approved the action of the Allied States. 

Not only did the creation of this hloc bid fair to 
provide a solution of purely Balkan questions; while 
it lasted it could not fail to have a stabilizing influence 
in the "Balance of Power" in Europe. From a military 
point of view, the combined forces in Bulgaria, Servia 
and Greece were a far from negligible factor ; they would 
have served both as a buffer between Slav and Teuton 
and as a deterrent to the ambitions of Pan-Germans and 
Pan-Slavs alike. From this combination of the Balkan 
States the Western European Powers had everything to 
gain. 

1 On the Encs-Midia line, thus leaving Constantinople in Turkish 
hands with a small hinterland in Europe. 

20 



THE BATTLE OF KUMANOVO 21 

In the autumn of 1912 an oligarchy of schemers and 
mediocrities held the reins of power in Constantinople. 
Their position was precarious, their inexperience great; 
to a large extent they were dependent on the goodwill 
of the Great Powers, from whom they sought advice. 
The advice given, though inspired by very different 
motives, had the same effect: it increased the self-satis- 
faction of the "Young Turks" and gave them a sense of 
security which was wholly unjustified by the circum- 
stances of the case. 

Great Britain and France posed as indulgent friends 
of the new regime in Constantinople, whose liberal pro- 
fessions seemed to announce a moral convalescence. 
Loans were to be the solvent of all difficulties. Under 
their quickening influence regeneration and reform 
would blossom in a desert air, while interests and ideals 
would march hand in hand. The policy of the French 
and British Governments was, in essence, the main- 
tenance of the status quo. Both counselled moderation 
in all things, with the possible exception of concessions 
to certain financial groups. The "Young Turks" lis- 
tened dutifully, as people do who are looking for a 
loan. 

Austro-Hungarian policy aimed at fomenting disorder 
in Macedonia and Albania, with the object of justifying 
intervention and eventually annexation. These two 
Turkish provinces were to share the fate of Bosnia and 
Herzegovina. Their acquisition would complete the eco- 
nomic encirclement of Servia and reduce that country 
to the position of a vassal State. Behind Austro-Hun- 
gary stood Germany, whose communications with Asia 
Minor needed a buttress in the Balkans. The final ob- 
ject of the Central Empires was the disintegration of 



22 OLD EUROPE'S SUICIDE 

Turkey in Europe. In the autumn of 1912, however, 
the Turkish plums were not yet ripe for plucking; a 
few more years of misrule were required. In the mean- 
time, the Austro-Hungarian and German Governments 
encouraged, secretly, the process known as ' ' Ottomaniza- 
tion" in Macedonia and Albania, with all its attendant 
ills. The Young Turks listened gladly ; such advice ap- 
pealed to their natural and traditional instincts. 

At this period the vision of Italian statesmen hardly 
extended beyond the Eastern Adriatic seaboard. More- 
over, Italy was a member of the Triple Alliance and held 
a merely watching brief in and around Constantinople. 

Along among the Great Powers, Russia was in close 
touch with the Balkan situation. For some years Rus- 
sian diplomats and military agents had possessed pre- 
ponderating influence in all the Balkan capitals; they 
had appreciated the scope and intensity of the smoulder- 
ing passions which, however transitorily, were to force 
into concerted action the Bulgars, Serbs and Greeks; 
the}^ alone had estimated correctly the military efficiency 
of the armies of the Balkan States and, almost alone, 
they knew the contents of the Secret Treaty, signed in 
February, 1912, which brought into existence the Balkan 
bloc. Russian policy was definitely anti-Turk : it aimed 
at the fulfilment of the testament of Peter the Great, at 
the expulsion of the Turks from Europe, at the estab- 
lishment of Russian sovereignty over the Bosphorus and 
the Golden Horn. It is an old saying that diplomatists 
are paid to lie abroad for the benefit of their countries; 
successive Russian ambassadors at Constantinople plied 
the Sublime Porte with soothing words; all was for the 
best in the best of all possible Turkeys, while plots 
matured and hostile armaments were perfected. The 



THE BATTLE OF KUMANOVO 23 

Young Turks listened somewhat fearfully ; it seemed too 
good to be true, but still they listened and believed. 

False counsel reacting on inertia had an inevitable 
result ; the declaration of war found the Ottoman Empire 
utterly unprepared. The mobilization of the Balkan 
armies was completed with unexpected rapidity and was 
followed by a simultaneous invasion of Turkey in Europe 
by Bulgarian, Greek and Servian forces. The Bulgars 
crossed the frontier of Thrace, without encountering 
serious opposition, and advanced towards the line 
Adrianople-Kirk-Kilise ; the Greeks entered Southern 
Macedonia, where the Turkish garrisons were weak and 
scattered ; the Serbs invaded the Vilayet of Kossovo and 
joined hands with the Montenegrins in the Sanjak of 
Novibazar. At every point the Balkan armies had pene- 
trated into Turkish territory. In Constantinople con- 
fusion reigned supreme ; disasters were exaggerated, sin- 
ister rumours passed from lip to lip, even the shrine 
dedicated to the "Divine Wisdom" ^ was not considered 
safe. 

The Russian Government looked on complacently — its 
plans were taking shape. In London and Paris curiosity 
was more in evidence than any emotion which might 
have been dictated by knowledge or foresight. In 
Vienna and Berlin the news was received with anger 
and astonishment ; better things had been expected from 
King Ferdinand of Bulgaria. The stubborn fact re- 
mained, however, and called for immediate action. A 
German military mission had for some years directed 
the training of the Turkish army; the time had now 
come for that mission to direct Turkish strategy. Events 
had moved too quickly for the cynical, realistic policy of 

1 Santa Sofia. 



24 OLD EUROPE'S SUICIDE 

the Central Empires, but they could be turned to good 
account if, at the outset of the campaign, the Serbs were 
crushed. And so, while yielding ground in Thrace and 
Southern INIacedonia, the Turks massed troops at Uskub, 
and made their plans for an offensive battle against the 
Serbs advancing southward into Kossovo. 

My lot had been cast with the Serbian forces and, by 
great good fortune, I was able to join the First Army 
as it poured through the defiles of the Kara Dagh into 
the region called ''Old Servia." At Belgrade the talk 
had been of a war of liberation from economic thraldom, 
of a conflict between the Crescent and the Cross; with 
the armies it was otherwise. No thought of policy or 
secret treaties, or even of religion, confused the minds of 
Servia's peasant soldiers; they marched like men called 
to fulfil their country 's destiny, singing the story of their 
race, making the mountains echo with their martial songs. 
There was no need to understand their language to catch 
the meaning of these singers; they sang of sorrow and 
tribulation, of centuries of helplessness in oppression, 
but the note of defiance was never absent; defeat was 
admitted but never despair. Something unconquerable 
was in their hearts, stirring their blood and nerving 
every muscle — the spirit of revenge. Bacon, in his fa- 
mous essay, says: "The most tolerable sort of revenge 
is for those wrongs which there is no law to remedy." 
The Serbs had five centuries of wrongs to avenge, and 
the Great Powers had produced no law as a remedy, 
except the law of force ; by force these peasants, in their 
turn, meant to obtain "a kind of wild justice." 

For them, the plains of Kossovo were sacred; there 
had been made the last heroic stand against a cruel and 
implacable foe; there had occurred the dreadful rout, 



THE BATTLE OF KUMANOVO 25 

whose few survivors told the tale, at first in frightened 
whispers, then in songs — long, wailing songs, like dirges. 
Songs are the chronicles of Slavonic races, they pass into 
the nation's ritual and permeate its life. Succeeding 
generations sang these songs of Kossovo, and so the legend 
grew, and spread to all the Balkan lands; each humble 
home, even in far Rumania, had heard of Lazar, a Tsar 
who led his people and gave his life up for them on a 
battlefield known as "the Field of Blackbirds." When 
princes perish thus, servility conspires with pity to make 
them martyrs. The dead Tsar led his people still, and 
far more potently in death than life ; his legendary form, 
looming gigantic through the mists of time, beckoned 
them, irresistibly, to blood-soaked fields, where, once 
again, the Turks and Serbs would meet in mortal strife. 
The First Servian Army, under the command of the 
Crown Prince Alexander, had crossed the old Serbo- 
Turkish frontier near Vranje. After two exhausting 
marches in enemy territory, the leading units, emerging 
from the mountains, saw in front of them an undulating 
plain ; in the distance some minarets, surmounting a col- 
lection of whitewashed houses, stood out against the sky. 
The Serbs were in sight of Kumanovo, a town situated 
15 miles north-east of Uskub, on the western fringe of 
a vast stretch of pasture land bearing the local name of 
"Ovce Polje" or ''Sheepfield." Running across the 
plain, from east to west, a line of trenches was clearly 
visible ; on the railway track from Saloniea many trains 
were standing, from which men descended and, after 
forming into groups, moved outwards to the trenches. 
It required no special military acumen to appreciate 
the fact that the Turks intended to make a stand at 
Kumanovo. The battlefield was flanked on the west by 



26 OLD EUROPE'S SUICIDE 

a railway and on the east by a small river, an affluent 
of the Vardar; to the north lay mountains, to the south 
the plain extended as far as the eye could reach. 

Night was falling, in a hurricane of wind and rain, 
when the Servian advanced gnards reached the northern 
limit of the plain and began to place their outposts. 
During the day there had been skirmishes with hostile 
patrols; every one was soaked to the skin, and supplies 
were a march behind. I must have seen several hundred 
infantry soldiers take up their appointed positions in a 
cluster of stony kopjes, which marked the extreme left 
of the Servian outpost line, and not a murmur of com- 
plaint or grumbling reached my ears. Sometimes men 
passed who muttered to themselves. I asked a Servian 
staff officer what they were saying; he replied simply, 
' ' Their prayers. ' ' And on this note began their vigil. 

All through the night the rain-sodden, wearied troops 
were arriving at their bivouacs. The front taken up was 
unduly extended and, notably on the extreme left, there 
were many gaps. The dawn revealed a scene of desola- 
tion and considerable disorder. Soon after sunrise the 
Turks attacked. 

Throughout the first day of battle the Turks pursued 
offensive tactics, attempting repeatedly to turn the Ser- 
vian left. More than once the situation on this flank 
became critical. Reinforcements arrived in driblets and 
in an exhausted condition; they were at once absorbed 
in the fighting line, without regard for any other con- 
sideration except the saving of a local situation. Of 
higher leading there was little, it was just a soldier's 
battle— hard, brutal fighting, stubborn valour in the 
front line, chaotic confusion behind. 

Late in the evening I saw a small party of horsemen 



THE BATTLE OF KUMANOVO 27 

moving rapidly from battalion to battalion immediately 
behind the front line. Riding by himself, a little in ad- 
vance of the others, was a young man with a thin, sallow 
face, wearing pince-nez. He stopped frequently and 
spoke with the ofificers and men. When he had passed 
on, they followed him with their eyes and seemed to 
move more briskly about their business. To these rough 
men from all parts of Servia this brief visit had a spe- 
cial interest ; the young man who rode alone and in front 
was the Crown Prince Alexander, and most of them 
were seeing him for the first time. 

In more senses than one the Crown Prince was alone 
that day. His exalted rank had conferred on him the 
command of an army; his extreme youth made it hard 
for him to impose his will on a staff of military experts. 
At the headquarters of the First Servian Army there was 
the usual percentage of senior officers whose peace train- 
ing had taken from them any human or imaginative qual- 
ities they may ever have possessed; who regarded war 
as a science, not a drama ; men without elasticity of mind, 
eternally seeking an analogy between their own situation, 
at any given moment, and some vaguely similar situation 
in the career of their favourite strategist (usually von 
Moltke). Since in war, at least, analogies are never 
perfect, such men lack quick decision and, almost in- 
variably, they take the line of least resistance. 

During the afternoon preceding the evening visit of 
the Crown Prince to his troops, several influential and 
elderly officers had been advising retreat ; they had 
studied the map carefully, and in their opinion no other 
course was left to the Commander of the First Army. 
All the text books confirmed this view, and in these books 
were embodied the great principles of strategy. They 



28 OLD EUROPE'S SUICIDE 

pointed out to Prince Alexander that he owed it to him!- 
self and his country to retire, as soon as possible, to a 
new position and fight again another day. They were 
absolutely sincere and were convinced that, since the 
Serbian left was in process of being turned, all the mili- 
tary experts would approve of what might, euphemistic- 
ally, be termed ''a strategic retirement." 

Many great military reputations have been made by 
the skilful conduct of a retreat and, according to their 
lights, the advocates of such tactics on this occasion were 
not far wrong in their reasoning. Only outsiders judge 
by results; military experts live in a charmed and ex- 
clusive international circle, in which method is every- 
thing. 

The Crown Prince had a great deal at stake. This 
battle marked a turning point in his life, and with him 
lay the final decision. He never hesitated. ' ' Stand fast 
and counter-attack all along the line at the earliest pos- 
sible moment" was the order issued, and then this de- 
scendant of a warrior swineherd mounted his horse and 
went to see his soldiers. Bad strategy, perhaps, but un- 
derstandable to the men who were bearing the brunt of 
the battle on the ' ' Sheepfield ' ' of Northern Macedonia. 

At General Headquarters Colonel G P shared 

and interpreted the Crown Prince's views. He knew the 
almost superhuman powers of endurance of the Servian 
peasants, and put his faith in them. King Peter upheld 
his son 's decision ; reinforcements and ammunition were 
sent to the 1st Army, on whose prowess depended the 
future fate of Servia. 

The second day of battle dawned fair, from early 
morning onwards the Turkish assaults were launched 
in rapid succession, and without regard for loss of life. 



THE BATTLE OF KUMANOVO 29 

It was evident that the Turks were making their great 
effort in this theatre of operations. By skilful manipula- 
tion of the Press the Bulgars had given the impression 
that every theatre, except their own in Thrace, was 
secondary ; they argued that the Turks would be so terri- 
fied by the Bulgarian threat to Constantinople that all 
available forces would be concentrated for the protection 
of the Turkish capital, and that a purely defensive atti- 
tude would be maintained in Macedonia. The facts 
were all against these suppositions. The only theatre 
in which the Turks were acting offensively was Mace- 
donia; in Thrace, after being completely surprised by 
the Bulgarian advance, they were in full retreat ; in 
Northern Macedonia a plan, dictated by the Central Em- 
pires, was being put into execution, and the destruction 
of the 1st Servian Army was its objective. 

From prisoners' statements the Turks appeared to 
be certain of success, a large force of cavalry under Ali 
Mechmet Pasha was being held in reserve south of Ku- 
manovo ready to take up the pursuit. 

On the morning of the third day the Servian front 
was still unbroken. During the preceding night rein- 
forcements had arrived from the general reser\'e, the 
gaps in the front line had been filled up, and the heavy 
artillery moved into position. The Turkish offensive per- 
sisted throughout the day, but late in the afternoon the 
Serbs made several successful local counter-attacks. 
After dark an unusually large number of priests visited 
the front line, the men crowded round them eagerly, 
and listened to their words. 

At daybreak, on the fourth day, a large force of Turks 
was seen moving towards the Servian left flank; the 
Turkish commander was making a last bid for victory. 



30 OLD EUROPE'S SUICIDE 

Advancing in close formation the attacking columns suf- 
fered heavy losses from the fire of some batteries of 
howitzers. On other parts of the front an ominous calm 
prevailed. Servian soldiers were swarming in the ragged 
trenches which had been thrown up during the course 
of the battle. Priests in their flowing black robes were 
everywhere. 

Suddenly, from the centre of the Sei*vian line, a salvo 
of guns gave a signal ! It was the signal for the counter- 
attack. 

Surely, never since Friedland has such a sight been 
seen. 

As though by magic the space between the Turkish 
trenches and the Servian front was seamed by lines of 
infantry dashing recklessly forward with bayonets fixed. 
Their onrush was irresistible, the Turkish front was not 
pierced — it was swept away. 

Within one hour of that amazing charge the battle 
of Kumanovo was lost and won. The Turkish General's 
last hope must have disappeared when a well-aimed refale 
from a group of Servian howitzers threw the massed 
squadrons of Ali Mechmet Pasha into hopeless confusion. 
Hundreds of riderless horses scoured the plain, and 
through them, ever pressing forward, surged the grey 
lines of Servia's indomitable infantry. The Turks were 
not merely driven back, they were routed, a rabble of 
unarmed men fled across the plain to Uskub and spread 
panic in the town; no attempt was made to man the 
forts, a general sauve qui pent took place; a well- 
equipped and numerous army melted away in headlong 
flight. 

By noon Uskub had ceased to be a Turkish town, its 
name was, once more, Skoplje. 



THE BATTLE OF KUMANOVO 31 

During the afternoon I came across some regiments, 
which had fought on the extreme right, forming up 
about five miles north of the town. The men grinned 
with pride and satisfaction as they showed the blood- 
stains on their bayonets ; they had come far for this, but 
knew no fatigue. Though so fierce in battle and filled 
with blood-lust, they were curiously gentle in their ways 
with the wounded of both sides and their prisoners; one 
felt that one was with a lot of big, strong children who 
would bear almost anj^thing up to a certain point, but 
that beyond that point it was most inadvisable to go. 

All sorts of wild stories were being circulated. It was 
said that a man, dressed in white and riding a white 
horse, had led the charge — many had seen the appari- 
tion, and had recognized Czar Lazar. 

A strange meeting took place that evening. The 
Consuls of the Great Powers in Uskub had remained in 
the panic-stricken town. When the last vestige of Turk- 
ish authority had left, they sallied forth in carriages to 
meet the conquering host, bringing with them the keys 
of the town. On reaching the Servian outpost line they 
were forced to alight, and, after being blindfolded, to 
proceed on foot to the headquarters of the Crown Prince, 
a distance of 11/2 miles. The scene was not without a 
certain irony. On the one hand, a young Balkan Prince, 
elated with victory, surrounded by his Staff; on the 
other, the representatives of Great Britain, France, Rus- 
sia and Italy blindfolded, muddy and dishevelled by a 
long tramp in goloshes through black, sticky mud. Fine 
feathers make fine birds, national prestige has, after all, 
something to do with gold lace. 

The conqueror received these unexpected envoys gra- 
ciously and accepted the keys, but he slept that night 



32 OLD EUROPE'S SUICIDE 

among his soldiers on the ground that they had won. 
Few triumphs have found a more appropriate setting. 
To the south the plain terminated in an arc of hills 
already dimmed by gathering twilight; spanning the 
arc the River Vardar shone like a band of silver ; between 
the river and the hills lay Skoplje, the minarets of its 
numerous mosques served as reminders of the conquered 
Turk ; commanding both the valley and the town a fort- 
ress stood, its old grey walls had sheltered Dushan, the 
greatest of all the Servian Tsars. These were the fruits 
of victory — and the tokens of revenge. 

I rode back to our bivouac with the Russian Military 
Attache, and quoted to him the words of Goethe after 
Valmy; we were indeed entering on a new world in 
the Balkans. My companion put his thoughts into far 
more concrete form : ^ " C 'est la liquidation de 1 'Autri- 
che" was his comment on the situation. The wish was 
father to the thought, a frequent source of error in Rus- 
sian calculations; Servia's victory was, undoubtedly, a 
discomfiture for the Ball Platz, - but the final liquidation 
of Austria-Hungary was not yet accomplished. That 
consummation was reserved for a later date, and for a 
more universal tragedy. 

Our road led across the battlefield. On every side 
were traces of the struggle, corpses of men, dead and 
dying horses. Near the railway we found a Turkish 
gun team of which five of the horses had been killed or 
wounded by a shell, the sixth horse, a big solemn-looking 
grey, was standing uninjured by his fallen comrades, an 
image of dumb distress. A Servian soldier, charged with 
the collection of loose horses, appeared upon the scene, 

1 "It Is the liquidation of Austria." 

2 Austro-Hungarian Foreign Office in Vienna. 



THE BATTLE OF KUMANOVO 33 

and, after putting the wounded animals out of their pain, 
turned to the grey, which had been standing quietly 
watching the man at work. Obviously, the next step was 
departure, but here a difficulty arose. The solitary sur- 
vivor of the gun team was loth to leave, and the look 
in his honest, wistful eyes was infinitely pathetic. A 
colloquy ensued between the representative of the Rus- 
sian Empire and the Servian peasant. Both were Slavs, 
and, in consequence, horse lovers; both agreed that this 
horse deserved and desired death ; there and then an act 
of extravagance, almost impossible in any other army, 
was perpetrated, and the gun team was reunited in some 
equine Nirvana known only to Slavs and Arabs. "An- 
other victim of the war," I remarked to my companion, 
as we continued on our road. He evidently considered 
this observation as typical of my British lack of imag- 
ination, and proceeded to recite a poem describing the 
fall of snowflakes. Russians can witness human suffer- 
ing with indifference, but are curiously sentimental in 
regard to nature, animals and flowers; nearly all Slavs 
possess a dangerous charm, the charm of men with gen- 
erous impulses uncontrolled by guiding principles; their 
speech is splendid and inspiring, their actions uncertain, 
since they are ever at the mercy of lurking passions and 
events. 

Just before darkness fell a number of birds, coming 
from all directions, settled upon the battlefield, they were 
black in colour ; round Kumanovo spread another ' ' Field 
of Blackbirds." But these were not blackbirds in the 
ordinary sense ; they were carrion crows brought by some 
instinct from their lonely haunts to batten on man's 
handiwork littering that death-strewn plain. A raucous 
cawing made the evening hideous ; sometimes a cry, more 



34 OLD EUROPE'S SUICIDE 

harsh and guttural than the rest, seemed to propound a 
question, an answering clamour followed, approving, 
quarrelling; it might have been a parliament of birds, 
summoned fortuitously, already passing laws to regulate 
this unexpected intercourse. Gloating, but not yet satis- 
fied, the stronger birds had made themselves lawgivers, 
and meant to impose respect for property upon their 
weaker brethren. 

That night the Austrian Military Attache left Servian 
Headquarters for Vienna. His Russian colleague ex- 
plained his sudden departure on the ground that, accord- 
ing to the Austro-Hungarian program, the Turks 
ought to have won. It may have been unwise for a small 
Balkan State to cross the wishes of so great a Power; 
but neither doubts nor fears assailed the Serbs that night ; 
they had gained at Kumanovo the first pitched battle of 
the war, and it had been a famous victory. 



CHAPTER IV 

Macedonia — 1912 

Macedonia is a tangle of mountains, whose higher 
levels are often bare and rocky; the intervening valleys 
are fertile, and in some cases, sufficiently extensive to 
be described as plains. These plains are the granaries 
of Macedonia, and contain the larger towns like Skoplje 
and Monastir, their population consists of peasants and 
farmers representing all the Balkan races, mingled with 
these, and living by their toil, are traders of almost every 
nationality. The scenery is wild and picturesque by 
turns, good roads are few and far between, they link 
the plains, which lie like oases in a wilderness of moun- 
tains, spaces of white, brown, green or yellow, according 
to the season. 

The victory of the Serbs at Kumanovo had been deci- 
sive, it had settled the fate of Northern Macedonia. Sim- 
ilar success had attended the operations in Northern 
Albania, where the Turks had abandoned their positions 
and were falling back on Scutari, pursued by the 3rd 
Servian Army advancing westward to the Adriatic. 
After a short delay at Skoplje, devoted to the reorgan- 
ization of the 1st and 2nd Armies, the Serbs continued 
their offensive towards Southern Macedonia ; the bulk of 
their available forces, under the command of the Crown 
Prince, moved south in the direction of Monastir, while a 
detachment of all arms descended the Vardar Valley, its 
objective being Salonika. 

36 



36 OLD EUEOPE'S SUICIDE 

These dispositions were dictated by sound strategy, 
which, for the moment, and quite justifiably, overrode 
all political considerations. The enemy's Field Army 
in Macedonia had to be found and beaten ; the remnants 
of that army were rallying for the defence of a second 
Plevna, covering the richest inland town in Macedonia, 
situated west of the Vardar Valley, and joined with 
Salonika by a railway. At this period, so far as I could 
judge, the Serbs were acting as loyal allies. The fact 
that no Bulgars were participating in the operations 
could be explained on administrative grounds. 

I decided to remain with the Crown Prince's recon- 
stituted army, and arrived at his headquarters in the 
middle of November; they were established at Prilip, a 
prosperous little town situated at the northern extrem- 
ity of the plain of Monastir. Winter had already set 
in, rain was falling on the plain and snow lay on the 
hills. 

A lodging had been provided for me in a peasant's 
house, whose spotless cleanliness was most reassuring. 
In this small dwelling were crowded the representatives 
of Great Britain, France, Russia and Italy, with a 
Servian officer as guide and interpreter, the owner of 
the house was absent with the armies, his wife both 
cooked and served our meals. I asked the Servian officer 
of what race she was. He replied, ' ' Oh, she is a Bulgar, 
there are a few Bulgarian farmers in this district." 

At Servian Headquarters the situation was discussed 
with a frankness which had been lacking while the 
Austro-Hungarian Military Attache was present. 
Every one agreed that the task before the Servian Army 
was one of unusual difficulty. The Turkish forces were 
stiU numerous, they disposed of excellent communica- 



MACEDONIA, 1912 37 

tions with Salonika, and the position they occupied was 
of great natural strength. The Serbs, on the other hand, 
were far from their base, the roads connecting Prilip 
with the railway were almost impassable for heavy- 
wheeled vehicles, and the train service with Servia was 
irregular and inefficient. Fortunately, the inhabitants 
of Prilip had come to the rescue by supplying the troops 
with 30,000 loaves of bread daily. 

The spirit of the Servian soldiers was still excellent, 
they were flushed with victory and confident of success ; 
but they had slaked their passion for revenge, their 
thoughts were with their families and homes, to which 
they expected to return so soon as this next and last 
battle should have been fought and won. 

A change had taken place in the mood of the Russian 
Military Attache ; he seemed pre-oecupied, and had made 
himself unpopular at Servian Headquarters by urging 
the inclusion of Bulgarian forces for the attack on Mon- 
astir. This suggestion had first been made at Skoplje, 
and had met with a flat refusal ; it was renewed at Prilip 
when the inhabitants agreed to supply the troops with 
bread. Incensed by a second refusal, the Russian so far 
forgot his diplomatic self as to state in public that such 
conduct on the part of the Serbs was idiotic, in view of 
the fact that the great majority of the population of the 
town and district were Bulgars. I asked him to which 
town he referred, ''Monastir or Prilip," he replied, 
"both." A sidelight was now being cast on the con- 
tents of the "Secret Treaty," already an inkling could 
be gained of the troubles that were to come. 

Two roads lead south from Prilip. One traverses the 
plain throughout its length, the other skirts its eastern 
boundary, following the left bank of the Cema, a tribu- 



38 OLD EUROPE'S SUICIDE 

tary of the Vardar. The Serbs advanced by both these 
roads, the main body debouched upon the plain, while a 
detachment took the river route, a metalled road built on 
swampy ground between the Cerna and a range of lofty 
mountains. Snow had fallen during the night preceding 
this advance, and when day broke billows of mist ob- 
scured the Cerna 's course and blotted out the hills be- 
yond. At the southern limit of the plain a ridge, cov- 
ered with new-fallen snow, screened from our view the 
town of Monastir; this ridge was the Turkish position, 
which faced almost due north with its right fiank resting 
on the Cerna; the river had overflowed its banks and 
caused a widespread inundation. The left flank termi- 
nated in a cluster of foothills between the northern end 
of Lake Prespa and Monastir ; the nature of the country 
and the absence of roads protected this flank from a 
turning movement. For two days the Serbs wasted 
their energies in frontal attacks against this carefully 
prepared position ; each assault broke like a wave on the 
barbed-wire entanglements which covered the Turkish 
trenches. For the first time the Servian infantry had 
been checked, and a feeling akin to dismay was spread- 
ing in their ranks; it seemed impossible to scale that 
ridge, behind which nestled Monastir, invisible and unat- 
tainable. Success now depended on the action of the 
detachment on the Cerna road. Here, the Turks had 
committed a serious error, the extensive inundations on 
their right flank had led them to believe that it was in- 
accessible, and they allowed the Serbs to advance, prac- 
tically unopposed, along the river as far as Novak, a 
village on the left bank, situated due east of Monastir, 
and connected with it by a built-up chaussee. The error 
consisted in under-estimating the qualities of the peas- 



MACEDONIA, 1912 39 

ants and l&shermen of Servia, men inured from their 
youth to hardships and exposure, to whom few natural 
obstacles are insurmountable. Another factor super- 
vened — the factor of morale. Over their comrades on 
the plain the troops of Novak had one great advantage 
— they could see the town lying behind the snow-clad 
ridge. 

War is a pilgrimage for simple soldiers, long days of 
marching, longer nights of vigil; they know not where 
they go, nor why — until the day of battle ; if then they 
see the goal they fight with clearer purpose, and 
knowledge born of vision casts out their doubts and fears. 
So it was with the Serbs that day at Novak ; they looked 
across a waste of water and saw before them Monastir 
— the Mecca of their pilgrimage ; the sight inspired these 
humble pilgrims, they set their faces to the west, entered 
the icy flood, crossed it unflinchingly, and by this bold 
manoeuvre snatched victory from defeat. 

By the evening of the third day of battle the right 
flank of the Turkish position had been turned, the Turks 
had abandoned their positions north of Monastir, and 
had effected their retreat into the mountains of Albania. 
Greek cavalry arrived at Fiorina (a town on the Mon- 
astir-Salonika railway) during the course of the battle, 
but took no part in the fighting. A Bulgarian column, 
descending the Struma Valley, had already reached the 
Rupel Pass, where the mountains merge into the coastal 
plain. For all practical purposes the Balkan Allies were 
masters of Macedonia; Greek, Bulgarian and Servian 
forces were converging on Salonika, whose fall was im- 
minent. 

On November 20, two days after the capture of Mon- 
astir, the 3rd Servian Army, in co-operation with the 



40 OLD EUROPE'S SUICIDE 

Montenegrins, captured Alessio, and thus gained access 
to the Adriatic seaboard. So far as Servia was con- 
cerned little remained to be done, old Servia had been 
reconquered, an outlet to the sea had been acquired. 
Servia, the State, had more than gained her object; 
Servia, the Ally, the Member of the Balkan League, was 
at the parting of the ways. Under the terms of the 
Secret Treaty, Monastir passed into Bulgaria's sphere 
of influence. This Macedonian town, if held as one of 
the fruits of Servia 's victory, was bound to become an 
apple of discord. Every thinking man in Servia knew 
it, but knowledge is not always power. 

The Prime Minister of Servia in 1912 was M. Pasitch, 
already a veteran among Balkan statesmen, and a man 
of patriarchal mien. The enemies of M. Pasitch said 
that his long, white beard had made his reputation as a 
statesman ; his friends deplored an accent which was not 
purely Servian, he had been bom at Pirot, on the Bul- 
garian frontier, where races, languages and politics were 
apt to get somewhat mixed. To foreigners M. Pasitch 
was a man of mystery, who spoke French badly, German 
rather better, and dealt in platitudes. Yet, beyond 
doubt, he was one of Servians great old men, with or 
without his beard. King Peter, weighed down by age 
and suffering, had left to him the cares of State, and he 
had borne the heat and burden of the day unruffled by 
abuse or calumny. At times he was pathetic, as, for 
example, when he said that the worst enemies of his 
country and himself were those he tried to rule. These 
words conveyed a bitter truth. M. Pasitch was a Servian 
institution, a Nestor in the Council, but, like most Bal- 
kan politicians, only retained office by submission to 
forces independent of the Government. The foreign 



MACEDONIA, 1912 41 

policy of Servia was dictated by M. Hartwig, the Russian 
Minister, and a diplomat of conspicuous ability; within 
certain limits this arrangement worked well, however 
galling it may have been to citizens of a sovereign State. 
Servia 's internal affairs were at the mercy of factions 
and secret societies; of these the most influential was a 
society known as the ''Black Hand," which included 
among its members some of the ablest men in the coun- 
try, whose patriotism was beyond dispute, but who had 
all the vices of their virtures. The very qualities which 
had made them fight so well fostered a spirit of unreason- 
ableness; they mistook moderation for lack of zeal and 
prudence for timidity, in their eyes it was statesman- 
ship to give free rein to the unbridled appetites of ignor- 
ant, short-sighted men intoxicated by success. 

In an evil hour for Servia a combination of irrespons- 
ible forces directed Servian policy in regard to Mon- 
astir. The attitude of the Serbs was at least compre- 
hensible, they could urge their sacrifices and the rights 
of conquest, that of M. Hartwig was inexplicable. This 
man knew the contents of the Secret Treaty, on which 
was based the Balkan League, and by which Servia re- 
nounced her claims to Monastir. He could not have ig- 
nored Bulgarian sentiment in Macedonia, nor the statis- 
tics of the population; yet he — a chief creator of the 
Balkan Bloc, an ardent Slav, a clever, gifted man, steeped 
in the politics of Central Europe — ^connived at denun- 
ciation of the Secret Treaty within a few months of its 
signature. 

Interference by the Great Powers in Balkan affairs 
has always been disa.strous, because it has been selfish. 
M. Hartwig may have considered the Serbs as little 
brothers, but he used them as an advanced guard of 



42 OLD EUROPE'S SUICIDE 

Pan-Slavism without regard for their real interests or 
preparedness for the task. Like the Russian Military- 
Attache, he thought that the victories of Kumanovo and 
Monastir had brought about "la liquidation de I'Autri- 
che," and that in future Russia alone would control the 
Balkan situation. He was wrong, and his and Servia's 
mistaken policy gave Austria-Hungary her opportunity. 

The reaction of polic}^ in strategy soon became mani- 
fest. In spite of the fact that a Turkish Army, led by 
Djavid Pasha (the best of Turkey's generals), was still 
in being, all active operations were suspended, and the 
Serbian forces were distributed throughout the con- 
quered territory and became an army of occupation. 
Monastir, renamed Bitolja, was held by a garrison con- 
sisting exclusively of Serbs, the civil administration was 
taken over by Serbian officials. 

Monastir had become a part of Serbia, and a very 
unhappy part at that. The reasons were not far to seek 
— the population was not Servian, 78 ^ per cent, of the 
inhabitants of the vilayet were Bulgars, and of the 
rest only a small proportion were Serbs. Ruthless re- 
pression of every institution or business which did not 
profess a Servian origin only served to embitter pop- 
ular feeling, and reveal the real facts of the situation. 
Ignorance of the Servian language was counted as a 
crime; publicans and other comparatively innocuous 
traders were flogged for infringing decrees published in 
Servian which they could not understand. Twelve 
lashes applied by an athletic gendarme are, no doubt, a 
powerful incentive to learning foreign languages, but 
many residents so mistrusted their linguistic talents that, 

1 Turkish statistics : There is good reason to believe that these figures 
were approximately correct ; it is most improbable, in any case, that 
the Turks would have exaggerated the number of Bulgars in this vilayet. 



MACEDONIA, 1912 43 

rather than face a second lesson, they left their homes, 
preferring the lot of refugees to tyranny and persecu- 
tion. Monastir was a town in torment, lamentations re- 
sounded in the Consulates of all the Great Powers, the 
publicans were not alone in regretting the departure of 
the backward but tolerant Turk. 

In the army of occupation, although discipline was 
strictly maintained, a revulsion of feeling had taken 
place. The poor in every Balkan State were suffering, 
as they always do, on them had fallen the burden of 
the war, shorn of its bloody splendour. The misery in 
Macedonia sickened the Servian peasants, they feared 
for their own homes, and deserted in large numbers. 
Armies are not machines, they are dynamic bodies whose 
health depends on action, kept stationary amid a strife 
of tongues they melt away. 

The Greeks had won the race for Salonika without 
much bloodshed, it was said that the Turkish military 
governor had sold the town for 300,000 francs. The 
Bulgars arrived a few hours after the triumphal entry 
of the Greek troops. They were received coldly, like un- 
welcome visitors. The Serbs were greeted more cor- 
dially, but as guests rather than Allies. 

At all ^gean ports the sea breezes compete unsuc- 
cessfully with unsavoury odours, resulting from insan- 
itary conditions, dried fish and garlic ; Salonika was no 
exception to the rule, but at the time of my arrival the 
moral atmosphere was even more unwholesome. Greeks, 
Serbs and Bulgars jostled each other in the narrow 
streets, proclaiming by their presence the downfall of 
Turkish rule in Macedonia. Yet, though success was 
sweet, its aftermath had turned to bitterness. Some- 
thing had been smashed, something they had all feared 



44 OLD EUROPE'S SUICIDE 

and hated; and now they were face to face with one 
another, the broken pieces in their hands, themselves a 
prey to envy, greed, and, worst of all, uncertainty. The 
Balkan Allies were writhing in the net of an alliance 
concluded secretly, its clauses were known only to a 
chosen few, who dared not to tell the truth. Each nation 
had its version of the Treaty, twisting the facts to suit 
its special interests. Brawls occurred daily in the streets 
between the Allied soldiers, their leaders wrangled in 
hotels. Many wealthy Turks had remained, they wore 
the look of men who, if not over-honest, still hoped, 
when the thieves fell out, to come into their own again. 

Greece claimed Salonika on the ground of prior occu- 
pation ; Bulgaria demanded that the port and its hinter- 
land should be under the same administration, or, in 
other words, her own; Servia had no direct interest in 
Salonika, but clung doggedly to Monastir, in spite of 
the Treaty. 

The Greek and Bulgarian Governments then in power 
were anxious to reach a settlement, but neither Govern- 
ment dared abate its claims; public opinion in both 
Greece and Bulgaria was supposed to be against conces- 
sions, because some organs of the Press had said it was 
so. A curious illusion this, though prevalent in every 
country. In the Balkans many important papers were 
subsidized with foreign money, yet still were believed 
to voice the views of peasants who could neither read 
nor write. 

Colonel G P , while discussing the possibility 

of obtaining ammunition from the Western Powers 
through Salonika, had suggested that the port should be 
internationalized. This was, of course, the only prac- 
tical solution of the problem ; but coming from a Serb it 



MACEDONIA, 1912 45 

would have had more weight if it had been accompanied 
by a promise to surrender Monastir. Unfortunately, no 
such surrender, either immediate or prospective, was 
within the sphere of practical polities. M, Gueshoff, the 
Bulgarian Prime Minister, went so far as to offer to 
leave the town and a part of Macedonia to the Serbs until 
the Servian aspirations in other directions should have 
been gratified. An agreement to this effect was reached 
during a private meeting with M. Pasitch, but it came 
to naught ; neither Prime Minister could control the sin- 
ister forces which worked like a poisonous leaven in 
their countries, and were rapidly wrecking the Balkan 
''Bloc." 

By the middle of December, 1912, it had become evi- 
dent that no peaceful settlement of the Macedonian ques- 
tion was possible if the Balkan States were left to their 
own devices. Collective intervention by the Great 
Powers was precluded by the attitude of at least three 
among them, who were deliberately exploiting the rivalry 
of the Balkan Allies, and hoped to fish in troubled 
waters. 

In the Bay of Salonika a British warship lay at 
anchor, a symbol of the Armada whose tentacles were 
on every sea, but a symbol and nothing more. To the 
men on shore, some of whom were looking at the sea 
for the first time, this ship was an object of respect 
and curiosity ; they had heard of Great Britain 's habitual 
gesture when Abdul Hamid became obstreperous, and 
they may have wondered whether Salonika was not re- 
garded in the same light as Besika Bay ; ^ it may even 
have occurred to some of them that perhaps the British 

1 A bay in the Eastern Mediterranean Coast to which a British squad- 
ron was sent whenever it was necessary to put pressure on the Turks. 



46 OLD EUROPE'S SUICIDE 

Government had a policy in the ^gean, where a new 
situation had arisen, requiring prompt attention from 
the Mistress of the Seas. 

It was then, as it is now, my firm conviction that if, 
at this critical period, the British and French Govern- 
ments had sent a Note insisting on Salonika being made 
an international port, and that if the Note had been 
supported by the dispatch to Salonika of a squadron of 
warships, Greece and Bulgaria would have complied. 
The rulers of the Balkan States would have welcomed 
such a method of escape from the dilemma in which they 
found themselves ; they knew, none better, how devoid of 
a comprehensive Macedonian policy they were, how the 
swift advance of the armies had outstripped their calcu- 
lations, and what would be the consequences if they 
failed to reach agreement. The Note would have indi- 
cated the course to pursue; the display of force would 
have justified compliance in the eyes of their own peo- 
ples. Objections to this course of action might have 
been raised by the Central Powers, but they could hardly 
have made it a casus belli, the pretext would have been 
too fiimsy; further, while the Balkan Bloc was still in 
being a prudent policy was imposed. On the other hand, 
the Russian Government, partly owing to the advocacy 
of M. Hartwig, and partly from anxiety in regard to 
the Bulgarian advance towards Constantinople, had be- 
come the partisan of Servia, and was not directly inter- 
ested in Salonika. 

No such step was taken, and a great opportunity was 
lost. The action of each of the Great Powers was char- 
acteristic — the British Government suggested a confer- 
ence of Balkan representatives in London ; French agents, 
working in the interest of Schneider, secured orders from 



MACEDONIA, 1912 47 

the Servian Government for guns and ammunition ; Italy- 
sent Servia a warning about the Adriatic ; Austria-Hun- 
gary began a partial mobilization. If further proof had 
been needed, this mobilization should have convinced the 
most purblind observers of Austria-Hungary's underly- 
ing motives; the veriest tyro in geography must have 
known that Salonika was more accessible to the fleets 
than to the armies of the Great Powers; a display of 
force in Bosnia and Herzegovina could not effect ap- 
peasement at Salonika, it could only terrorize the Monte- 
negrins and the Serbs, and at the same time encourage 
the Turks still left in Europe to prolong their resistance. 
Nor did Austro-Hungarian policy overlook the possibil- 
ities presented by Bulgaria; the Bulgars, so far, had 
gained little by the war, the Greeks were at Salonika, and 
the Serbs at Monastir; they, the Bulgars, had not yet 
captured Adrianople, and their hearts were filled with 
bitterness and resentment. After all, they had some 
cause to grumble, and some excuse for listening to the 
tempter. 

The belligerent States accepted the invitation to con- 
fer in London. While the delegates conferred, wearied 
soldiers, immobilized by frost and snow, burrowed in 
holes like hibernating animals. 

I returned to Belgrade for Christmas, 1912. The 
town was full to overflowing, and, as usual, foreigners, 
posing as Balkan experts, did all the talking. The 
Serbs themselves were feeling the pinch of war, hunger 
and cold had brought typhus in their train; the angel 
of death was claiming many victims still. 

Walking back from dinner with a journalist who en- 
joyed a European reputation, I got what my companion 
called "a peep behind the scenes." It was a most un- 



48 OLD EUROPE'S SUICIDE 

edifying spectacle, and as remote from reality as the 
moon, which, sailing high in heaven, lit up that winter 
night. 

In all that concerned the Balkans the Great Powers 
were in truth les Grandes Impuissances. ^ Blinded by 
ignorance, greed and prejudice, they were laying the 
foundations of a pyramid, whose blocks would be errors 
piled on errors through seven succeeding years. The 
Great Powers were the master-builders, and the Balkan 
States their pupils. Apt pupils these, ready to learn and 
accustomed to obey. The lessons given and received 
were base, unworthy and a negation of all moral sense. 

To any one who knew and faced the facts the situation 
had the elements of a Greek tragedy. The Balkan ex- 
perts had played the part of a Bacchanalian chorus and 
created a suitable atmosphere. The first act was com- 
pleted, its stage a little known, romantic land, to many 
a land of promise. One wondered whether the cast was 
yet complete, and what new players might be added. 
Ruthlessly, logically and inevitably the climax would 
be reached. But where and how? No one could then 
foresee. 

1 "The Great Powerless." 



CHAPTER V 
Albania— 1912-1913 

After the victory at Kumanovo, as already mentioned, 
the 3rd Servian Army marched westwards into Albania, 
The northern part of this Turkish province had a spe- 
cial value in Servian eyes. It included the so- 
called Adriatic ports — Durazzo and San Giovanni di 
Medua. 

Colonel G P had given me some idea of the 

hatred felt by his countrymen for Albanians generally. 
The misgivings aroused at Belgrade by his reference to 
this subject were more than confirmed by the conduct 
of the Albanian campaign. No detailed narrative of 
these operations has been obtained, but the fragmentary^ 
reports received, both from neutrals and belligerents, 
left no doubt as to the atrocities which accompanied and 
stained indelibly the heroism and endurance of the Serv- 
ian soldiers. Whole villages were wiped out, old men, 
women and children were either slaughtered in their 
homes or driven forth to die of cold and famine, the 
countryside was wasted, an orgy of wanton destruction 
was permitted, if not encouraged, by the Servian Staff. 
As the army penetrated more deeply into the mountains, 
fresh horrors were added; winter set in, the passes be- 
came blocked with ice and snow, men and animals fell 
from slippery tracks into abysses, disease and insanity 
were rife, a line of corpses marked the passage of the 
army. Numbers dwindled rapidly; only the strongest 

40 



50 OLD EUROPE'S SUICIDE 

survived; stragglers were left to die in awful solitudes. 
The Albanian peasants, aided by the Turks, defended 
their mountains step by step; bands of them hovered 
round the line of march, seeking a chance for grim re- 
prisals. Quarter was neither asked nor given; men 
fought like barbarians with a veneer of science, which 
made their actions doubly hideous. Episodes described 
by competent and impartial observers leave an impres- 
sion as painful as it is confusing ; nothing more terrible 
has taken place in any part of the world, or in the whole 
history of war. 

Servian activities in Albania provoked a protest on 
the part of two of the Great Powers, but not on humani- 
tarian grounds. From both Vienna and Rome there 
came a note of warning: "Ne touchez pas I'Adriatique"^ 
was the purport of the message. Tne attitude of the 
Austro-Hungarian and Italian Governments was frankly 
interested; it was that of a big dog who sees a terrier 
gnawing a bone within tempting reach of its (the big 
dog's) kennel. This prohibition was not to be lightly 
disregarded, but the Government at Belgrade showed 
unexpected firmness. Strong in their faith in Russia 
and in M, Hartwig, the Serbs continued to advance. 
After a month of ceaseless struggle against Turks, Al- 
banians, the elements and nature, this vanguard of Pan- 
Slavism in the Balkans came within sight of the forbid- 
den coast, between Alessio and Durazzo. The soldiers 
raised a shout of exultation. Behind them lay a barrier 
of mountains, impassable in winter ; before them was the 
sea, to reach whose shores they had endured and risked 
so much. Some troopers galloped quickly to the beach 
and spurred their famished horses into the sparkling 

1 "Don't touch the Adriatic." 



ALBANIA, 1912-1913 51 

water, and when they found it was not fit to drink they 
murmured helplessly. The men of Servia proper, unlike 
their kinsmen of Dalmatia, had not the habit of the sea ; 
for them it still remained a mystery, pregnant with dis- 
illusionment both present and to come. 

The Turks had withdrawn the bulk of their forces to 
Scutari and the Serbs occupied Alessio without encoun- 
tering serious opposition. This ancient town is situated 
at the junction of the new road from the coast at San 
Giovanni di Medua with the main road connecting Du- 
razzo and Scutari. It formed, in consequence, an ad- 
mirable base for future operations. For the time being, 
however, the 3rd Servian Army was incapable of fur- 
ther efforts; the troops were exhausted, supplies and 
ammunition were scarce, boots for the men and shoes for 
the horses were alike lacking, and, until sea communica- 
tions with Servia through Salonika could be established, 
a continuance of the offensive was impossible. Unfor- 
tunately, the confusion which reigned at Salonika pre- 
vented the immediate despatch of supplies and reinforce- 
ments to San Giovanni di Medua; the army was im- 
mobilized by force of circumstances and degenerated into 
an army of occupation, holding a strip of territory be- 
tween the mountains and the sea. 

The invasion of Albania had been undertaken pre- 
maturely and in a spirit of exaggerated optimism; im- 
patience and want of foresight had rendered fruitless an 
achievement which, however marred by atrocities, was a 
splendid feat of arms. Servia 's position in Albania be- 
came more precarious with every day that passed in in- 
activity. The key of the situation was Scutari. While 
that fortress remained in Turkish hands, conquest was 
incomplete, and at any moment one or more of the Great 



52 OLD EUROPE'S SUICIDE 

Powers might intervene; already there were indications 
that the Dual Monarchy ^ was losing patience and fret- 
ting against a policy which kept the ring. 

Alessio is noted as the burial place of Scanderbeg, an 
Albanian chieftain and son of a Servian princess. Dur- 
ing the 15th century he had waged war against the 
Turks for over twenty years; his name was a household 
word in Servia, as that of one who had fought a com- 
mon foe. Time had wrought many changes since those 
days. The narrow streets around the hero's tomb were 
thronged by an invading host of Serbs, with devastation 
in their track, their hands imbrued with Albanian peas- 
ants' blood. An evil genius seemed to possess the Serv- 
ian leaders. The war, no more a war of liberation, had 
loosed their basest passions; success had made them 
cruel, vindictive and tyrannical, the very faults for 
which they blamed the Turks. 

As Bacon says : "Prosperity is not without many fears 
and distastes ; and adversity is not without comforts and 
hopes." While Servia groaned beneath the Turkish 
yoke, cycles of songs had fortified her faith and poetized 
defeat. Only a "Hymn of Hate" could chronicle this 
victory — a fierce lament, resounding through a land of 
desolation, echoing a people's cries of woe. 

Winter passed without any active protest on the part 
of the Great Powers in regard to the presence of Servian 
troops in Northern Albania. In the early part of Feb- 
ruary, the Young Turks, under the leadership of Enver 
Pasha, broke off the peace negotiations in London, and 
hostilities recommenced in Thrace and Albania. Mace- 
donia was clear of Turks and, from a purely Servian 
point of view, the only remaining military operation was 

1 Austria-Hungary. 



ALBANIA, 1912-1913 53 

the capture of Scutari. The troops on the spot were 
unequal to the task, and the Servian Government de- 
cided on the despatch of reinforcements, by sea, to San 
Giovanni di Medua. Time pressed. The Serbs had 
learned at the London Conference that a fait accompli ^ 
was a better basis for bargaining with their Allies and 
the Great Powers than the most righteous cause; they 
feared that, at an early date, a second armistice might 
be imposed upon them, and they were determined to, if 
possible, attend the next conference as masters of Scutari 
and the adjacent coast. 

The organization of the expeditionary force was com- 
pleted rapidly and efficiently, and by the end of Febru- 
ary the Servian troops were concentrated at Salonika. 
Unfortunately for the Serbs, they were dependent on 
their Greek allies for overseas transport and a naval 
escort. The intentions of the Greek Government may 
have been excellent, but their administrative services left 
much to be desired. It was not until March 17 that the 
fleet of transports steamed out of Salonika harbour; at 
least 14 days had been wasted in vexatious, and in some 
cases unnecessary, delays. 

The ships were overcrowded to an extent which would 
hardly have been justified if the voyage had been made 
in time of peace, when it would have lasted only four 
or five days; in time of war, and more especially in 
view of the recent activity of the Turkish cruiser Ham- 
idieh, a prolongation of the voyage should have been 
allowed for and suitable arrangements made; they were 
not, and once again the soldiers had to suffer for the 
optimism of the Headquarters Staff. In point of fact, 
the Hamidieh was never within 1,000 miles of the Adri- 

1 "An accomplished fact." 



54 OLD EUROPE'S SUICIDE 

atic, but its name inspired dread, and the transports 
dared not move without an escort of Greek warships. 
At the last moment these were not forthcoming, owing 
to the occurrence of a naval display at the Pirosus, on 
the occasion of the funeral of King George of Greece, 
who had< been assassinated a few days earlier in the 
streets of Salonika. Twelve precious days were spent 
between the Mgean and the Gulf of Corinth. The con- 
voy reached the Ionian Sea and anchored off San Gio- 
vanni di Medua after a journey lasting 17 days. So 
long a voyage in crowded, insanitary transports had its 
inevitable result; typhus had broken out among the 
troops, many men were buried at sea, the horses and 
oxen suffered terribly; some had been embarked a fort- 
night before we left Salonika. "Without firing a shot 
the Servian Expeditionary Force had lost much of its 
fighting value, mainly through the muddling of the mili- 
tary and naval staffs. War is at all times wasteful. 
When Allied States share in an enterprise officials speak 
in many tongues, their jealousies are national as well as 
personal, the waste is augmented out of all proportion 
to the results achieved. 

As we approached our moorings at San Giovanni di 
Medua, I was standing on the bridge of the flagship 

with Colonel G P . After looking through his 

field glasses at the coastline for some minutes, he turned 
to me with the laconic remark, "Dasz ist ein groszes 
nichts. " ^ No better description could have been made 
in words. 

Lying before us was a bay sheltered from the north 
by a low headland, below which could be seen a sandy 
beach with two jetties; to the east of the beach was 

1 That is a big nothing. 



ALBANIA, 1912-1913 55 

the mouth of the River Drin; from here the coastline 
ran in a southerly direction and was fringed by man- 
groves. The only human habitations in sight were two 
houses on the headland, and in the distance, about six 
miles away, Alessio. Stranded on the beach were two 
Greek steamers, victim of the Hamidieh. San Gio- 
vanni di Medua was not a port, it was an open roadstead, 
affording no shelter from a south-west wind. 

The reinforcements sent by sea brought the total num- 
ber of Servian combatants in Albania up to 23,000 of all 
arms, with a good proportion of artillery. At this stage 
of the war, and taking into consideration the jealousies 
which divided the Turkish commanders, a force of such 
size and composition had Scutari at its mercy. One de- 
termined assault would have brought about the fall of 
the fortress. For reasons which have never been ex- 
plained, the Servian General, who directed also the oper- 
ations of the Montenegrin Army, continually postponed 
the day for the assault. This procrastination was des- 
tined to have disastrous consequences. 

Nearly three weeks had passed since the landing when, 
one evening at dinner time, I was informed that the gen- 
eral assault would take place at dawn on the following 
day. The infantry and guns were already in their ad- 
vanced positions, and every one was confident of success. 
Towards the end of the meal a Servian Staff Officer en- 
tered with a message for Colonel G P , who, after 

reading it, leaned across me and addressed the General. 
Both men seemed agitated, and left the tent together. 
A few minutes later I was asked to join them. A curi- 
ous document was put before me. It was signed by a 
British admiral, who described himself as the commander 
of an international squadron of warships, anchored at 



56 OLD EUROPE'S SUICIDE 

the time of writing off San Giovanni di Meclua. There 
was nothing ambiguous about this document. It was a 
formal order to the Servian General to withdraw his 
forces from the neighbourhood of Scutari and bring them 
back to the coast; no diplomatic verbiage was employed 
and no explanations were given. 

The first effect of this amazing communication on the 
two Servian officers was stupefaction, which soon gave 
way to strong resentment. They, not unnaturally, con- 
sidered such treatment as an affront to the sovereignty 
of their country and a flagrant breach of neutrality. 
They found some consolation, however, in the fact that 
a British admiral had signed. It gave them a sense of 
security, so they said. Everywhere in the Balkans one 
found this sentiment towards the British. It touched 
the heart and flattered pride of race ; one tried to forget 
the ignorance and detachment of the British Govern- 
ment, to justify this simple trust and to be worthy of it. 
The signature was not very legible, but the name was 
already sufficiently well known for me to recognize it as 
Cecil Burney. 

No steps were taken to countermand the assault, which 
would undoubtedly have taken place had not a telegram 
from Belgrade arrived at midnight containing full in- 
structions as to the future conduct of the Servian forces 
in Albania. The withdrawal of all troops to the sea- 
coast whence they had come was to be absolute and 
immediate ; advanced posts were to be withdrawn under 
cover of darkness, to minimize the risk of rearguard 
actions with the enemy. On arrival at San Giovanni di 
Medua, preparations were to be made at once to re- 
embark the troops on specially provided transports, al- 
ready on their way from Salonika. 



ALBANIA, 1912-1913 57 

The Serbs marched back to the coast bursting with 
anger and despair. All their hardships and sufferings 
had been endured in vain. Coming down the valley to- 
wards the beach they saw before them a great array of 
warships, tlying the flags of six Great Powers, and 
learned another bitter lesson. The sea was not for them 
— not yet at least. A swift reaction followed. The 
force that daunted them was force afloat, on land they 
held themselves invincible, and asked for nothing better 
than to return to Macedonia, to conquests nearer to their 
hearts and homes ; to mountains and inland plains where 
water was not salt; where men and animals were not 
cooped up in stifling holds, and did not have their stom- 
achs turned by the uneasy movements of the sea. 

They thought they had been tricked, and from this 
mood a frame of mind emerged which brooked no com- 
promise at Monastir. The "Black Hand" society got 
many new adherents from the Servian Army in Albania 
during these fateful days. Made bitter by helplessness 
and disappointment, the belief spread among the men 
that that society alone stood up for Servia's rights, and 
so they joined the ranks of the enemies of peace. 

Colonel G P looked grey and haggard; this 

termination of an enterprise of which he had been the 
principal organizer was a set-back in his career, but to 
all personal considerations he was indifferent. The 
causes of this sudden display of energy on the part of 
the Great Powers did, however, give him food for anxious 
reflection. He saw the handiwork of Austria-Hungary, 
and said bitterly: ''Albania is a small country, but it 
contains three races and four religions. There is only 
one way of maintaining peace here, and that is by divid- 
ing this country between Servia and Greece. At the 



58 OLD EUROPE'S SUICIDE 

beginning it would be hard, but no harder for the Alban- 
ians than when they were under the Turks, from whom 
we have liberated them. Austria wants an autonomous 
Albania, though she knows it is an absurdity, because 
she does not want peace in the Balkans, except on her 
own terms. Great Britain and France are helping Aus- 
tria — God knows why! What do your people know 
about Albania?" He pointed to the warships in the 
bay and added: "Today is the first birthday of autono- 
mous Albania; it is a bad day for all the Balkan States." 
I thought of that suburb in Berlin where there was 
one bank too many, and then of a Conference of Ambas- 
sadors in London, called to resolve the Albanian riddle. 
Burian ^ would be there as well as Mensdorff.- Austria 
would speak with no uncertain voice. If the British 
Government had a policy in Albania, it was surely an 
Austrian policy. A division of Albania between Servia 
and Greece was the logical outcome of the Balkan War 
of 1912; it might have been effected under the control 
of the Great Powers and guarantees could have been 
exacted for the protection of the different nationalities. 
For harder questions have been dealt with on these lines, 
since the expulsion of the Serbs from the Albanian coast. 

1 Baron Burian, afterwards Count Burian, a prominent Austro-Hun- 
garian diplomat both before and during ttie war. 

2 Count Albert Mensdorff, Austro-Hungarian Ambassador in London for 
15 years. 



CHAPTER VI 

The Second Bale:an "War and the Treaty of 
Bucharest 

In April, 1913, representatives of the Balkan States 
were summoned, for the second time, to Great Britain, 
and once again the negotiations threatened to drag on 
interminably. They were cut short, however, by Sir 
Edward Grey, who had lost patience with the procras- 
tinating methods of the delegates, and a treaty was 
signed, known as the "Peace of London." 

So ended the first Balkan War. Turkey lost all her 
territory in Europe except Turkish Thrace, which served 
as a hinterland to Constantinople; Bulgaria acquired 
Adrianople and Dede Agatch as her share of the spoil ; the 
Greeks retained Salonika and Cavalla; the Serbs still 
occupied Monastir ; Albania was declared an autonomous 
kingdom, whose frontiers were to be delimited under the 
direction of an Ambassadors' Conference in London, 
while an International Commission assisted the local Gov- 
ernment, pending the appointment of a King. 

The Peace Treaty registered the defeat of Turkey; it 
did little more, and was merely a rough and ready at- 
tempt to reconcile the conflicting aims and aspirations 
of the victors. Rumania added fresh complications by 
demanding compensation from Bulgaria for having 
played a neutral part during a Balkan "War. Another 
conference of Ambassadors was assembled in Petrograd 
to arbitrate upon this point. 

59 



60 OLD EUROPE'S SUICIDE 

The Bulgarian delegate in London had been M. Daneff, 
a rude, overbearing Macedonian who incensed and irri- 
tated all those with whom he came in contact. The selec- 
tion of this man for so delicate a mission was, to say 
the least, unfortunate. To many it appeared suspicious 
that M. Daneff should have been sent, when M. Gueshoff, 
the Prime Minister, and a man of reasonable and mod- 
erate views, could have gone in his place ; it looked as if 
King Ferdinand of Bulgaria had already become en- 
tangled in the meshes of Austro-Hungarian diplomacy, 
whose object was the disruption of the Balkan League. 
M. Danetf rejected the overtures and proposals of 
Greeks, Serbs, Rumanians and Turks with equal con- 
tempt. As a result, Bulgaria became more and more 
isolated. Potential enemies surrounded her on every 
side, but, blinded by arrogance and false counsel, she dis- 
dained the alliance of any neighbouring State. 

At the end of June, the storm broke. The signature of 
peace had enabled the Bulgarian Government to concen- 
trate troops in Eastern Macedonia, in close proximity to 
the Servian army of occupation. The soldiers of the two 
armies fraternized with one another and, to all appear- 
ances, the Bulgars had the friendliest intentions. The 
first act of war took place before dawn on June 30 when, 
v/ithout warning, the Servian outpost line M^as attacked 
and driven in by a numerically superior force of Bulgars. 
The Serbs recovered themselves speedily, reinforcements 
were hurried to the front attacked, and a counter-attack 
was made which drove the Bulgars in confusion from 
the field. Servian successes had an immediate effect on 
the Government at Sofia. The treacherous offensive of 
June 30 was repudiated and ascribed to the personal in- 
itiative of General Savoff, one of Bulgaria's most noto- 



THE SECOND BALKAN WAR 61 

rious "men of action" and a favourite of the King. The 
repudiation came too late. All the other Balkan States 
combined against Bulgaria, and within three months of 
the signing of peace in London, Greeks and Serbs were 
fighting their late ally in Macedonia, while Turks and 
Rumanians invaded her territory from the east and 
north. 

The Bulgars soon found themselves in a desperate 
plight ; no amount of stubborn valour at Carevoselo ^ 
could protect Sofia against the Rumanians or save Adri- 
anople from the Turks. By the end of July the Bulgar- 
ian Government was forced to sue for an armistice to 
save the country from utter ruin. The day of reckon- 
ing had come for an inexcusable and odious crime. 

In the first week of August, the delegates of the Balkan 
States assembled at Bucharest to negotiate yet another 
peace. Their task was not an easy one. Public opinion 
in Servia and Greece was exultant and clamouring for 
vengeance ; in Turkey, Enver Pasha, the saviour of Adri- 
anople, was at the zenith of his fame. From elements 
such as these a judicial frame of mind was not to be ex- 
pected; they were blinded by hatred, pent up through 
decades of jealousy and fear. Enver cherished ambi- 
tious dreams, counted on German help, and knew no 
scruples. The majority of the Greeks and Serbs aimed at 
reducing Bulgaria to a state of impotence. Had it been 
possible, they would have exterminated the entire race. 

A few courageous voices were raised in protest against 
a too brutal application of the principle that every coun- 
try has the government it deserves; they declared it a 
crime to visit the sins of the rulers on their hapless 

1 A place close to and just outside the S.-W. frontier of Bulgaria, 
where the Bulgars resisted the combined attacks of the Servian and 
Greek armies for 14 days. 



62 OLD EUROPE'S SUICIDE 

subjects ; they claimed that the Bulgarian people, as dis- 
tinct from their rulers, had been punished enough al- 
ready ; that Bulgaria had been bled white and had made 
many sacrifices in a common cause; that she had lost 
much of her power for evil, and might, if properly 
handled, lose the will; they pleaded that justice should 
be tempered with common sense, if not with mercy, and 
urged that the folly of exasperating millions of virile 
peasants, and thereby driving them into closer union 
with the Central Empires, against all their racial in- 
stincts, should be foreseen and checked. 

The men who dared to speak with the voice of reason 
were called pro-Bulgars in Greece and Servia ; they went 
to Bucharest, hoping to find a more objective spirit. 

Many factors combined to make the Rumanian capital 
the most suitable meeting-place for the Balkan delegates 
on this momentous occasion. Rumania had struck the 
decisive blow without bloodshed; her army was intact 
and her treasury was not depleted ; her territorial claims 
were inconsiderable and had been submitted to the Great 
Powers for arbitration ; lastly, in her King, Rumania pos- 
sessed a personage peculiarly fitted to mould and direct, 
dispassionately, the proceedings of the Conference. 

King Charles was a man advanced in years who had 
served his adopted country both faithfully and well. 
The Rumanian people felt for him gratitude and respect. 
At this period they would have followed loyally in any 
course he chose to take. As head of the elder and Cath- 
olic branch of the Hohenzollern family, the Kingj of 
Rumania was in close touch with the courts of the Cen- 
tral Empires and with King Constantine of Greece. 

In short, fate had conferred on this Hohenzollern 
prince unrivalled authority in his own country, access 



THE SECOND BALKAN WAR 63 

to powerful channels of persuasion, and in relation to 
the other Balkan States, forces sufficient to impose his 
will. He could, had he willed, have been arbiter of the 
Balkans and might have changed the course of history. 
In the event, he preferred to stand aside. 

History is full of such "might have beens." Time 
is a kind of fourth dimension affecting every human 
action. King Charles's opportunity occurred when he 
was old and tired. Made over-cautious by his knowledge 
of the play of external forces on the Balkan situation, 
he feared a general conflagration, which might consume 
his life's work at a stroke. And so he left ill alone, and 
hoped to end his days in peace. 

Probably the best known of King Charles's ministers 
in 1912 was M. Take Jonescu, whose tireless energy in 
the cultivation of relationships and souvenirs in foreign 
capitals had earned for him the title of "the Great Euro- 
pean." This title was not undeserved, though applied 
ironically in nine cases out of ten. M. Take Jonescu had 
acquired the habit of generalizing from Rumanian affairs 
so as to make them embrace the whole of the old world 
and the new ; this had enlarged his horizon and given him 
a vision which at times was startlingly prophetic. He 
recognized more clearly than any of his countrymen the 
role of Rumania at the Conference and what could and 
should be done. The restless, versatile man of the people 
was fascinated by the splendid possibilities of a bold 
and imaginative Rumanian policy. Not so his colleagues 
of the Conservative Party ; they opposed inertia to ideas, 
and behind them stood the King. M. Take Jonescu had 
a lawyer's training and was no champion of lost causes. 
This cause was lost indeed while King Charles was on 
the throne; only a cataclysm could have saved it — a 



64 OLD EUROPE'S SUICIDE 

' ' Cascade des Trones. ' ' ^ The Rumanian statesman fore- 
saw, and in his vaguely anarchic fashion wished for this 
consummation, about which he was to write a few years 
later, but the la^vyer threw up his brief and devoted 
his undoubted talents to bargaining and the conclusion 
of a Treaty which King Charles himself described as a 
"drum-head truce." In the Near East, men have a 
passion for subtle and tortuous negotiations, which are 
comprehended in the phrase ''un marchandage Balkan- 
ique, ' ' ^ which end in compromises, effect no settlement, 
and serve to postpone the evil day. 

The Austro-Hungarian representative in Bucharest 
must have heaved a sigh of relief when it became clear 
that Rumania's participation in the Conference would 
be restricted to land-grabbing in the Dobruja.^ Silistria 
and a district from which one of the best Bulgarian in- 
fantry regiments drew its recruits were claimed, and 
eventually annexed, by Rumania. No great extent of 
territory this, but enough to hurt. 

The French and British press, skimming lightly on 
the surface of the Conference, dealt with personalities 
in preference to principles. M. Venizelos was their fa- 
vourite delegate, and held that position to the end. Suc- 
cess in any walk of life is profitable ; success in rebellion 
is the shortest road to fame. M. Venizelos had begun 
his career as a Cretan rebel. In 1913 he shared with 
King Constantine the honours of two victorious cam- 
paigns in Macedonia, and was credited with the resurrec- 
tion of the old Hellenic spirit. At Bucharest this re- 
markable man was in a difficult position; his sole rival 

1 "A Cascade of Thrones." The title of a series of articles published 
by M. Take Jonescu in 1915. 

2 "Balkan haggling." 

3 See map. 



THE SECOND BALKAN WAR 65 

in the affections of the Greek people was his sovereign, 
to whom he owed the allegiance of a subject and with 
whom his personal relations were far from cordial. The 
considered judgments of M. Venizelos favoured conces- 
sions to Bulgaria in regard to Cavalla and its hinterland ; 
to any such suggestions the King replied with a categori- 
cal refusal. Fearful of forfeiting popularity by any act 
which would diminish the aggrandizements of Greece, M. 
Venizelos was perpetually balancing between his con- 
ception of Balkan statesmanship and concern for his own 
reputation. Eventually, the latter gained the day. 
Cavalla was retained by Greece and another bone of con- 
tention was created between Greeks and Bulgars. The 
presence of Servian and Turkish delegates at Bucharest 
was purely formal. Like the daughters of the horse- 
leech, their cry was — give; to have given them more 
than what they had already taken would have brought 
on another war, and no one was prepared for that. 
Servia's retention of Monastir was sanctioned, the Turks 
remained at Adrianople. The Bulgars, crestfallen and 
daunted for a time, retained a part of Thrace, including 
Dede Agatch and Porto Lagos; they were alone and 
friendless; the sympathies of Russia, the one-time lib- 
erator, had been estranged. They turned their eyes, re- 
luctantly, towards the Central Empires and nursed a fell 
revenge. 

In due course, the Treaty of Bucharest was signed by 
the contracting parties. It has never been officially 
recognized by the Great Powers, yet bj^ many it is ac- 
cepted as a basis for future readjustments in the Balkan 
Peninsula. Fallacies are of rapid growth, they none the 
less die hard. The negotiations had been, in fact, a 
diplomatic duel between Russia and Austria-Hungary, 



66 OLD EUROPE'S SUICIDE 

the first clash between two mighty movements — the 
''Drang naeh Osten" ^ and Pan-Slavism. Austria-Hun- 
gary had won. The new frontiers were a triumph for 
her diplomacy. Servia, though victorious, M^as enclosed 
as in a net; on the East an irreconcilable Bulgaria; on 
the West, Albania torn by internal discord, and fast be- 
coming an outpost of the Central Empires ; on the South 
Greece, where German influence was daily gaining 
ground. Killed by its authors, the Balkan "Bloc" was 
dead. A new element had been introduced into the bal- 
ance of power in Europe. Servia and Bulgaria were 
doubtful States no longer, they were in opposite camps, 
and, when the lassitude caused by two cruel wars had 
passed, they could be set at each other's throats again 
to fight for interests not their own. 

Great Britain had held aloof from the proceedings of 
the Conference. Our Minister in Bucharest had received 
instructions to take neither part nor lot in the negotia- 
tions; if called upon for an opinion he was to endorse 
that of his Russian colleague. If the British Govern- 
ment had any Balkan policy at all it was, apparently, 
a Russian policy, a vicarious partnership, an acquiescence 
in the pernicious doctrine that two wrongs may make a 
right. 

A gaping wound had been made in Europe's side, the 
surgeons had met together at Bucharest, and fearing to 
probe had sewn it up with clumsy stitches. Wounds are 
not healed by surgery such as this, not only do they open 
up again, their poison spreads, attains some vital organ, 
and causes death. Good surgery needs knowledge, fore- 
sight, courage, the power and will to act. The men, who 

1 "The Thrust to the East." 



THE SECOND BALKAN WAR 67 

from ignorance or inertia neglected and dallied with the 
Balkan problem, were scarcely less guilty than the crim- 
inals who, of set purpose, made a peace which sowed the 
seeds of war. 

During the summer of 1913 a spell of intense heat oc- 
curred in the fertile plains of the Danube valley. In 
every village dirt and insanitary conditions encouraged 
flies, winged insects swarmed by night and day, revelling 
in filth and carrying disease. The Rumanian peasants 
who had marched into Bulgaria had been attacked by a 
more deadly enemy than the Bulgarian hosts — the chol- 
era microbe pursued them to their homes; the malady 
assumed an epidemic form and raged at first unchecked. 

To some it seemed an act of retribution for an un- 
righteous peace, a manifestation of stern justice, dubbed 
divine, although its victims were the innocent and weak. 
The rich escaped by fleeing to hill stations or the sea, 
the poor, perforce, remained and died by hundreds, their 
families were decimated, their fields were left untilled, a 
blight had fallen on this pleasant land. 

In her hour of trial Rumania discovered an unex- 
pected source of strength and consolation. Calamity 
had called, and from her castle in the mountains an 
English Princess came, leaving the fragrant coolness of 
the woods for stifling heat and misery in myriad shape, 
down in the sun-scorched plain. In every cholera camp 
her white-clad form was seen moving from tent to tent, 
bringing the tonic of her beauty, restoring hope, 
dealing out pity with a lavish hand. To humble folk 
weighed down by suffering, it was as though an angel 
passed, and memories cluster still around those days, 
weaving a web of gratitude and loving kindness, a web to 



68 OLD EUROPE'S SUICIDE 

outward seeming, frail and unsubstantial, but unbreak- 
able, surviving all the shocks of war, binding the people 
to their Queen. 

I returned to London through Sofia and Belgrade. 
After the festivities of Bucharest the aspect of both 
these Capitals was sad indeed. Victor and vanquished 
alike were reaping the aftermath of war ; bedraggled 
soldiers thronged the streets, no longer saviours, not 
even heroes, merely idle citizens, useless until demob- 
ilized. 

From Belgrade my duties called me to Vienna. As 
the train crossed the railway bridge to Semlin, I saw 
again the guns and searchlights on the Save 's Hungarian 
bank. Austria-Hungary had not yet decided on her 
course of action, but she was ready. The Balkan Allies 
of 1912, like rabbits unconscious of the presence of hun- 
gry pythons, had had their frolic. Now, they had 
paused for breath and had time to think. No longer 
Allies, they were helpless. Victims, not wholly inno- 
cent, they would crouch and wait; already it seemed as 
if a Python-State had stirred. 



CHAPTER VII 
Two Men Who Died 

I. FIRST MAN. A SIMPLE SOLDIER 

Near Krivolak, in the Vardar Valley, a road strikes 
westward, joining the railway with the plains lying 
bej^ond a wall of mountains. At first, it winds in tort- 
uous fashion, following a streamlet's rocky bed, and, ever 
rising, leads to a tableland where other roads are met, 
and signposts point the way to Monastir. 

The Vardar Valley is a rift of gentle beauty in a wild, 
inhospitable land, the mother of many tributaries com- 
ing from east and west. It broadens on its journey to 
the sea, the plains adjoin and almost touch each other, 
like glowing pearls strung on a silver thread. One of 
these plains lies north of Krivolak, and here the valley 
of the winding stream and road sinks like a lovely child 
into its mother's lap. The war had made it a Gehenna, 
where wagons creaked and jolted, and the once silent 
spaces echoed with moans of pain. 

In the main valley, close to the railway station, some 
tents were grouped around a mast, and from the mast 
ther^ waved a Red Cross flag. During the hours of dark- 
ness a lamp replaced the flag ; both served as guide and 
landmark to the countrj'side, inviting all who needed 
help to this outpost of humanity. 

Here were received convoys of sick and wounded, 
some to regain their health and strength, others to join 

69 



70 OLD EUROPE'S SUICIDE 

their comrades in the graveyard which grew in size with 
each succeeding day. They arrived m a lamentable con- 
dition, bruised by rough travel in springless wagons, 
their wounds neglected, and too often gangrened. From 
them one learned how long the way had seemed, how 
from afar their eager, straining eyes had sought the 
fluttering flag or the red lamp, which marked the bourne 
where respite would be found after long days and nights 
of misery. 

Amid the scores of human wrecks littering the Eed 
Cross camp one man attracted my especial notice — a 
young Servian soldier. He lay at full length on a 
stretcher, and sometimes raised himself to a half-sitting 
posture, but soon fell back again exhausted by the effort. 
Both his legs had been shattered by shrapnel below the 
knees, a blanket concealed them mercifully, he did not 
know the worst. The surgeon whispered that it was a 
hopeless case, gangrene was far advanced, the long, well- 
coupled legs were doomed, only by amputation could 
his life be saved. 

He thanked me for some cigarettes and smiled a boy- 
ish smile, showing a row of splendid teeth. His uniform 
was caked with mud and hung in rags, the muscles rip- 
pled on his arms and chest, which, though unwashed, 
were clean, nature had kept them so. 

The war had been a great event for him, he quite 
ignored its tragic side, and talked of battles and a charge, 
of how he'd killed a Turk, and then he added: "In a 
few months I will be well again and fit to fight the Aus- 
trians." His home was in the Drina highlands, he had 
grown up under the shadow of the northern neighbours, 
and learned to hate them with his mother's milk. Yet 



TWO MEN WHO DIED 71 

still he kept his sunny temperament, the priests who 
preached race hatred had not destroyed his soul. 

Our conversation had a sudden ending. Two orderlies 
came to take the stretcher and bear it to a tent, the move- 
ment made the blanket slip, and once again the soldier 
raised himself instinctively — saw what was waiting for 
the surgeon's knife, a mangled mass of splintered bones, 
torn tendons, rotting flesh, and fell back dead. 

Perhaps it was better thus. A kindly providence had 
done what no man dared to do. That lithe and sinewy 
form, without its legs, might have contained a bitter 
heart, and added yet another drop to hatred's overflow- 
ing cup. 

II. SECOND MAN. A PEASANT 

In the Balkan Peninsula, monasteries are more than 
places of refuge for people with monastic minds, they 
minister to a wider public, and are at once hostels and 
shrines, centres of food supply and travellers' gossip, 
where merchants market, while monks pray and sing. 
Their pious founders have left a saintly work behind 
them, theirs is an incense burnt in the furnace of afflic- 
tion, mounting to heaven on waves of gratitude. 

The Monastery of St. Joachim stands in a quiet valley, 
a mile or more from the main road which links Bul- 
garian Kjustendil with Turkish Uskub, or in Servian 
Skoplje. Down this main road the tide of war had 
swept, leaving a trail of empty granaries, of violated 
homes, and frightened, wailing children. The people 
bore these trials patiently, there was naught else to do, 
but when despair had overcome their hope, they one and 
all. Christians and infidels alike, sought consolation at 



72 OLD EUROPE'S SUICIDE 

the monastery set amid dark green trees. Thither there 
flocked a hungry, homeless crowd, seeking first food and 
shelter, then repose, and finding all in the great caravan- 
serai, left standing by the tolerant Turks, 

One evening, during the first Balkan War, a Serv'ian 
officer and I arrived on horseback at the monastery gate. 
Close by there rose a spring covered with slabs 
of stone, the water tricking through an iron 
pipe into a rough-hewn trough. "We paused to 
let our horses drink, and saw, lying upon the ground, a 
man, or what was left of one. His form was rigid, 
motionless, only the eyes moved, bright, black, beady eyes, 
which flitted restlessly from face to face, then turned to- 
wards the setting sun and stared, undazzled, at the 
flaming pageant, only to leave it soon, and throw 
quick glances here and there at objects nearer and more 
human. 

His story was soon told. He was a Bulgarian soldier, 
struck by a Turkish bullet near the spine and paralysed. 
Some peasants had found him in a field, and, filled with 
pity, had brought him to where he lay, so that, at least, 
he should not die alone. 

A woman had brought a pillow for his head, a monk 
knelt at his other side repeating words that solace dying 
men. 

And then he spoke. The voice, though weak, rang 
clear; in a hushed silence, it gave the final message of 
a man whose earthly course was run. 

Neither the woman nor the priest had touched the 
peasant's heart. His thoughts were far away, but not 
with wife or children, nor dm me weitare of his soul 
trouble his dying moments. He had a farm m the Mar- 
itza valley, not far from Philippopolis, there he had 



TWO MEN WHO DIED 73 

spent his life, and lavished all his love and care. To 
him that strip of land was very dear, and, dying, he 
remembered it, to give some last instructions for the 
next autumn sowing. 



CHAPTER VIII 

"1914" PmcE AND War 

In the early spring of 1914 a revolution broke out in 
Southern Albania. The Christian Epirotes, renouncing 
allegiance to the Prince of Wied (the sovereign ap- 
pointed by the Great Powers), had set up a provisional 
and independent Government at Argyrocastron, a moun- 
tain village about twenty miles north-east of Santi Quar- 
anta. This port lies within easy distance of Corfu, and, 
by a stroke of fortune, I was able to land there, in spite 
of the fact that it was held by the insurgents. After a 
short stay at Argyrocastron I went to Athens, where I 
was received by both King Constantine and M. Veni- 
zelos. 

The former regarded the revolution from a strictly 
military point of view. He said he had decided to 
take disciplinary measures against officers and men of 
the Greek Army who aided or abetted the Epirotes, and 
seemed to think that the only duty of Greek soldiers 
was to their King, to whom they owed so much. As, ap- 
parently, he was without any detailed information on 
the subject, I did not tell him that numerous Greek sol- 
diers, wearing uniform, were already with the insurgent 
bands. The King was at this time the most popular 
man in Greece, and the consciousness of this had become 
an obsession. He had won his popularity by two cam- 
paigns, and was meditating a third, against Turkey, so 
soon as his army and his fleet would be reorganized and 

74 



"1914" PEACE AND WAR 75 

re-equipped. Prussian military methods were to be 
followed, as far as possible, in spite of the fact that a 
French Military Mission had been charged with the 
training of the troops. King Constantine talked like a 
young officer who had recently emerged from a staff 
college; coming from the ruler of a country his con- 
versation left an impression of irresponsibility, one felt 
he was a dangerous, though well-meaning man. 

M. Venizelos was moved, almost to tears, on hearing 
of the pitiable condition of the Greek refugees from 
Central Albania, but explained his utter helplessness to 
relieve their lot. Albania was under the protection of 
the Great Powers, and he feared that any practical sym- 
pathy for revolutionaries, within the frontiers made 
sacrosanct by the Ambassadors' Conference, might entail 
serious consequences for himself and Greece. He in- 
quired after M. Zografos, the head of the Provisional 
Government, and one of his most bitter political oppo- 
nents. The latter had referred to M. Venizelos in un- 
flattering terms, describing him as both incompetent and 
unprincipled, but, although it was evident that no love 
was lost between the two men, the man in power dis- 
dained vituperation. 

M. Venizelos spoke with real feeling about the religious 
side of the revolution and the sincerity of the peasants 
in all that concerned their faith. He seemed amused 
at the idea of M. Zografos being associated with three 
Archbishops in the Provisional Government. I asked 
the reason. He confined himself to saying that M. Zog- 
rafos was very rich. I replied that, from what I had 
seen at Argyrocastron, at least one of the Archbishops 
accepted with patriotic resignation this disqualification 
for the Kingdom of Heaven on the part of his political 



76 OLD EUROPE'S SUICIDE 

chief, and that he had even seemed to enjoy some ex- 
cellent dinners prepared by the rich man 's cook. 

The Prelates in question were, in point of fact, the 
real leaders of the revolution. Between them they com- 
bined all the qualities needed by their peculiar environ- 
ment. Archbishop Basileus was a worldly-minded old 
gentleman who, beneath a venerable exterior, concealed 
political ability of no mean order. Of the other two — 
one was a meek and learned monk, possessed of great 
authority among the local clergy; the third, Germanos 
by name, was a striking and interesting personality. 
Young, handsome, ascetic, gifted with fiery eloquence, 
and as religious as his flock, he supplied a moral impulse 
which redeemed much that was trivial in the conduct 
of the revolution; his premature death from consump- 
tion was a real loss to Epirus and its already hopeless 
cause. 

M. Venizelos said little about general Balkan matters, 
he appeared tired and dispirited, and it was evident 
that the Greek Government was not going to get itself 
into trouble over the Epirotes, in spite of their pure 
Greek origin. These unfortunate people constituted the 
wealthiest and most civilized element in the population 
of Albania, they had an indisputable right to a large 
share in the Government of that country. This they 
had not got, and, with the full knowledge of the Great 
Powers, they had been left, politically, to the tender 
mercies of men saturated with Turkish traditions, under 
the nominal Kingship of a conceited and ignorant Ger- 
man Prince. 

I reached Belgrade early in April, 1914. The city had 
resumed its normal aspect. The General Staff were talk- 
ing and planning war, the general public was more in- 



''1914" PEACE AND WAR 77 

terested in the working of the Commercial Convention 
with Greece. In political and diplomatic circles vague 
references were made to certain concessions to Bulgaria 
in the Vardar Valley. These latter appeared to me to 
be so inadequate as to be hardly worth discussing, and 
yet, as matters stood, the Serbs refused to offer more. 
This attitude, however unfortunate, was more reasonable 
in 1914 than at any previous period. In the absence of 
direct railway communication between Greece and Servia, 
the Commercial Convention would lose half its point, 
since the only railway line available passed by the Var- 
dar Valley through the heart of the "Contested Zone." 
No practicable trace for another line existed, except a 
tortuous route impinging on Albania. 

Ethnical and geographical conditions had conspired 
to make Macedonia a "Debatable Land," the creation 
of an independent Albania had added fuel to the flames 
of discord, it had not only shortened the Serbo-Greek 
frontier and prevented all communication by sea, but, by 
thwarting Servian and Greek aspirations in that direc- 
tion, had engendered in both countries an uncompromis- 
ing state of mind. Bulgaria's claims remained unal- 
tered, they had become crystallized by defeat and disap- 
pointment; amid the shifting sands of Balkan politics 
they stood out like a rock. 

The Great Powers had sacrificed the interests of Greece 
and Servia directly, and those of Bulgaria indirectly, on 
the altar of an Autonomous Albania. Ingenuous people 
claimed that this course had been dictated by high- 
minded motives, by a benevolent, if tardy, recognition of 
the principles of self-government, whose application in 
other lands could wait on this strange experiment. 
Naivete is charming when not contaminated with hypoc- 



78 OLD EUROPE'S SUICIDE 

risy, but one swallow does not make a summer; a single 
act, however specious, cannot efface a decade of intrigue. 

An active economic policy in Macedonia had already 
been initiated by the Austro-Hungarian Government. 
The first move was characteristic, a share in the control 
of the Belgrade-Salonika Railway was claimed, on the 
ground that a large part of the capital for its original 
construction had been subscribed by citizens of the 
Dual Monarchy. British newspapers dealt fully with 
the financial aspects of the case, but refrained from crit- 
icizing a proposition which deprived a sovereign inde- 
pendent State of the sole control of a railway within its 
frontiers. The Servian Government tried to float a loan 
with which to buy out the foreign shareholders, but 
failed — high finance is international and obdurate to 
the poor. On ne prete qu'aux riches.^ 

I stayed in Vienna for a few days on my way to Lon- 
don. Here, it was generally recognized that, in regard 
to Servia, a dangerous situation was developing, which 
could not be neglected. Many serious people frankly 
expressed the hope that some incident would occur which 
would provide a pretext for taking military action 
against the Serbs. No one wanted war, but every one 
felt that an end had to be put to "an intolerable state of 
affairs"; the time for conciliatory measures had passed, 
the Southern-Slav movement was assuming menacing 
proportions, and would wreck the Austro-Hungarian Em- 
pire, if steps were not promptly taken to nip it in the 
bud. 

Such were the opinions expressed, in private circles, 
by men and women who did not know with what skill 
and ingenuity the net had been spread for Servia. In 

1 Loans are made only to the rich. 



"1914" PEACE AND WAR 79 

official circles confidence was the prevailing note; the 
lessons of the last two wars had been forgotten in the 
Austrian War Office, where the efficiency of the Servian 
Army was, as usual, under-estimated. Diplomats pro- 
fessed to have no faith in the sincerity of Russia's inten- 
tions when posing as the champion of the Southern Slavs ; 
such a policy struck them as being too unselfish for the 
Government of the Czar. 

Cynics are bad psychologists; to them Russia has 
always been an enigma and a source of error. M, Hart- 
wig expressed the Pan-Slav point of view: Servia was 
part of Russia, the Serbs were ' ' little brothers, ' ' destined 
once more to reach the Adriatic, to bar the highway to 
Salonika, to fight again, if need arose, in Slavdom's 
sacred cause. 

The Serbs themselves wanted independence, complete 
and definite; they hoped to gain it with the help of 
Russia, and then to found an Empire of their own. 
That Empire could be created only at the expense of 
Austria-Hungary, Germany's ally, mate of a monster 
Python State which soon would raise its head. 

Though outwardly at peace, Servia and Bulgaria were 
arming with feverish haste, preparmg to take their places 
in Europe's opposing camps. The pyramid was rising, 
taking shape ; issues were narrowing, effect was succeed- 
ing cause ; the disintegration of the Balkan hloc had left 
the Slavs and Teutons face to face, the arena was cleared 
for a titanic struggle, those who knew anything of Europe 
foretold the coming storm. 

Austria-Hungary had not long to wait for the desired 
pretext. The assassination of the Archduke Francis 
Ferdinand was a sufficiently sensational incident to sat- 
isfy the most exacting. The Dual Monarchy took the 



80 OLD EUROPE'S SUICIDE 

fatal step, and sent an ultimatum which was its own 
death warrant. 

Civilization stood aghast and feigned a moral indig- 
nation which was far from being sincere. Austria-Hun- 
gary, in thus using a weak and neighbouring race, was 
acting in strict conformity with moral standards which 
the Great Powers themselves had set. Junkers in Ger- 
many, Cosmopolitan financiers in Paris, Reactionaries in 
England, and the Czar's ministers in Russia had acted, 
or were prepared to act in precisely similar fashion, each 
in their separate sphere. In the eyes of these men, na- 
tional sentiment was the appanage of Great Powers, the 
day of small States had passed. They had admitted the 
independence of Albania from motives of expediency, 
and at the instance of Austria-Hungary, the very State 
which now they should have judged. 

The relations between the different European States 
were those which exist between the denizens of a jungle 
— no moral laws restrained them, the weak were the nat- 
ural victims of the strong. The peoples were sometimes 
passive, at others artificially exicted, but always helpless 
and inarticulate, driven like cattle in a herd. The 
"Jingo" Press in every Christian land glorified might 
as right, eminent soldiers told a respectful public that 
militarism alone could save the Commonwealth, and that 
v/ithout its wholesome discipline the nations would de- 
cay ; science collaborated in the race of armaments, which 
had become a source of riches and a patriotic cult. 

The murder at Sarajevo gave Austria-Hungary an 
opening, she pressed her advantage like a bully bent on 
the destruction of a weak antagonist. Not only had the 
weak to go to the wall, and go there with every circum- 
stance of humiliation, a still more signal ignominy was 



*'1914" PEACE AND WAR 81 

needed to mollify the wounded pride of men like Tisza ; ^ 
who insisted that Belegrade should be occupied, and that 
Servian peasants should, once more, endure the horrors 
of an alien yoke. Only by such means could an Arch- 
duke be avenged and jungle law maintained. Blinded 
by passion, Austria-Hungary had forgotten that there 
were other earnivori in the jungle whose interests were 
involved. 

The Junkers, capitalists, journalists and soldiers, who 
had led Europe to the verge of the abyss, now realized 
what lay before them, — something incalculable, immense 
and elemental. Self-interest was forgotten for a mo- 
ment, even their callous minds recoiled. These men had 
spent their lives talking of European War, and making 
costly preparations for it, but at its near approach they 
flinched. In Petrograd a supreme effort was made to 
avert the cataclysm, it was cynical enough and revealed 
the morality of the "Balance of Power" in Europe in a 
brief but pregnant phrase ^ — "Ldchez V Autriche et nous 
Idcherons les Franqais" was the message to the German 
Government. It came too late; public opinion in Rus- 
sia was dangerously excited, and behind the Russian 
people stood another Power which also was suffering 
from ' ' an intolerable state of affairs. ' ' For nearly fifty 
years the French had lived beneath a sword of Damocles 
wielded with German arrogance; they supported with 
difficulty the "Three Years' Service" system, and had 
lent much money to the Russians. The French Govern- 
ment seized its opportunity, France made the Servian 
Cause her own. 

Three crowned heads symbolized the might and power 

1 Count Tisza, leader of the Hungarian Conservatives and ultimately 
assassinated in Budapest by a Hungarian Socialist. 

2 Abandon Austria and we will abandon the French. 



82 OLD EUROPE'S SUICIDE 

of Central Europe — one, senile, embittered, selfish, sur- 
rounded by a mediaeval Court; another, pompous, vain, 
ambitious, a war-lord, the apex of a social pyramid which 
recognized no law but force ; the third, an autocrat whose 
will was law to millions, a man both weak and obstinate, 
whose character was a riddle to those who knew him 
best. Men such as these could not prevent the conflagra- 
tion; considering their influence and position one won- 
dered why it had not come before. 

When war became inevitable, the British Empire was 
utterly unprepared in both a mental and material sense ; 
many educated people of the upper classes were amazed 
at each other's ignorance of geography; the man in the 
street awoke from his wonted lethargy, and studied geog- 
raphy, as well as ethics, in the pages of the Daily Mail. 

On August 10, 1914, a troop train passed through 
Woking Station bound for Southampton Harbour. The 
men were typical "Tommies" of the old Army, and were 
in the highest possible spirits. One of them, more curi- 
ous-minded than the rest, shouted to a be-spectacled 
civilian on the platform, *' 'Ow far is it from 'ere to 
Servia, guv 'nor?" The train was in motion, and time 
did not admit of a satisfactory reply. 

After all, at that time, it did not matter where or how 
far away an unknown land like Servia might be; all 
the best strategists were agreed that Servia 's future 
destiny would be settled by a great battle in the West. 
Poor Servia, it would take more than that to save her 
from invasion; for the moment, anyhow, Heaven was 
too high, and her Allies were too far. 

A little over twelve months later, British and French 
troops were being disembarked at Salonika and hurried 
thence to reinforce the already beaten and retreating 



"1914" PEACE AND WAR 83 

Serbs. I've wondered sometimes whether the light- 
hearted boy, who tried to learn geography at "Woking 
Station, was of their number. 

He may have struggled up the Vardar Valley and 
penetrated narrow gorges, where the railway, for want 
of space, follows the ancient road. He may have seen 
the mountains of Old Servia and caught an echo from 
their frowning heights: "Too late, too late, ye cannot 
enter now." 



CHAPTER IX 

The NeutrxUj BiALKan States — 1915 

My duties recalled me to the Balkan Peninsula in the 
early spring of 1915. None too soon, the Allied Gov- 
ernments had turned their attention to Near Eastern 
problems and had decided to dispatch an Expeditionary 
Force to retrieve their damaged prestige in the East. 
The main objectives were the Dardanelles and Constan- 
tinople, respectively the gateway and the pivot of the 
Ottoman Empire and points of inestimable strategic 
value for the future conduct of a world-wide war. Im- 
perial policy, in its widest and truest sense, dictated this 
course of action and, as was natural and logical, the 
Allied Power which had most at stake supplied the in- 
itiative and took the lead. 

Great Britain, in its dual capacity of guardian of the 
sea-routes of the world and the greatest Mohammedan 
Power, has seldom been in a more critical position. Ger- 
many and Turkey acting in combination could approacl^ 
the Suez Canal through Asia Minor, the Red Sea through 
Arabia and the Persian Gulf through Mesopotamia. 
Enemy successes in these three directions could hardly 
fail to have an adverse influence on Mohammedan opin- 
ion and, under such conditions, India itself would not 
be safe. The foundations of the British Empire were 
endangered, threatened by forces both open and insid- 
ious; a British policy, framed by men who understood 

84 



NEUTRAL BALKAN STATES— 1915 85 

their business, was the only Allied policy which could 
properly meet the case. The British statesmen then in 
office faced this grave situation with steady eyes, 
and reached a conclusion which, at the time, was 
widely criticized, but, to their credit, they persisted 
in it. 

The fiat went forth from Downing Street, and on the 
experts of Whitehall devolved the task of evolving a 
strategy in harmony with policy. 

Experts, of any kind, are good servants but bad mas- 
ters; they are prone to pessimism when called to work 
outside their special spheres, and are, as a rule, indif- 
ferent prophets; like the Spaniards, they often seem 
wiser than they are. Expert and official opinion on 
both sides of Whitehall was opposed to the expedition 
to the Dardanelles. The North Sea drew the Navy like 
a magnet, there it was felt the decisive battle would be 
fought, and the desire of islanders was natural to make 
security doubly sure. Mr. Winston Churchill devoted all 
the resources of his forceful and energetic personality to 
Eastern Naval preparations, he had both courage and 
imagination, and brushed aside the protests of officials 
within his jurisdiction, but these were not the only 
obstacles — sometimes he must have wondered whether a 
chasm had not replaced the thoroughfare which separates 
the Admiralt}^ from the War Office. In the latter build- 
ing, an old machine, under new and inexperienced direc- 
tion, was creaking uneasily, barely able to stand the strain 
caused by the war in France. To the War Office staff, 
it seemed as if Pelion had been piled on Ossa, when they 
were asked to co-operate with the Navy in a distant 
expedition, whose scope and nature brought into strong 
relief their mental and material unpreparedness. Ref- 



86 OLD EUROPE'S SUICIDE 

uge was sought in procrastination, difficulties were exag- 
gerated, the many human cogs of a complex ma- 
chine groaned in the throes of a new and unwelcome 
effort. 

In enterprises of this nature, risks must be taken, a 
circumspect and timid strategy misses the mark. In 
this particular instance, time was the essence of the 
problem ; a single Division, at the psychological moment, 
was worth nine arriving late ; a military force of 20,000 
men, acting in close support of the Allied Navies, could 
have achieved success where a host a few weeks later, 
even if ably led, might fail. The stakes were enormous, 
the obstacles, both naval and military, formidable but 
not insuperable. A calm appreciation of the situation 
should have convinced the most doubting spirits that 
Constantinople could be taken by a well-timed and vig- 
orous stroke. At this period Turkey was isolated, her 
forces were disorganized and short of ammunition, the 
Germans were unable to send either reinforcements or 
war material to this theatre, except in driblets. The 
position of Enver Pasha was precarious, his enemies 
were numerous and active, they had viewed with pro- 
found misgivings the rapid growth of German influence, 
and were ready for a- change. Constantinople was ripe 
for revolution; the wheel had turned full circle, the 
Allies, by the irony of fate, could count on assistance 
from reactionary elements, converted by mistrust of 
Germany into potential supporters of our cause. The 
neutral Balkan States were waiting and, in their hearts, 
longing for Allied intervention, it meant the solution 
of many complicated problems, and they preferred even 
unpleasant certitude to doubt. 

A turning point in history had been reached; states- 



NEUTRAL BALKAN STATES— 1915 87 

men had ordained the expedition and left its execution 
to amphibious experts; prompt, energetic action based 
on careful plans was needed, action combining force on 
land and sea. A watching world was wracked with ex- 
pectation, something portentous was about to happen, 
the Small States held their breath. In Whitehall, an 
official mountain trembled slightly, and forth there crept 
a tardy, unready mouse. 

While troops were being crowded pell-mell into trans- 
ports and hurried to Gallipoli, the Foreign Office in 
London and Paris took up the question of the neutral 
Balkan States. A suggestion that reinforcements should 
be sent to Servia had gained support in certain Allied 
quarters and, since the only available port of disembark- 
ation was Salonika, for this, if for no other reason, 
friendly relations with the Greeks were sought. Under 
the cloak of the commercial convention with Servia, am- 
munition was already passing freely up the Vardar Val- 
ley, and it was hoped that the precedent thus established 
might be extended so as to cover a still more benevolent 
neutrality, and allow of the passage of French and 
British troops. Greece was the only Balkan State which 
depended for its existence on sea communications, she 
was completely at the mercy of the Allies, and no amount 
of German intrigue, in court and military circles, could 
twist the logic of hard facts. Neither King Constantine 
nor his advisers were prepared to accept formall}^ a tech- 
nical violation of Greek neutrality, they would have 
been helpless, however, if the Allies had insisted. To a 
layman, the diplomatic situation seemed to be typical 
of those described in a certain class of novel, in which 
suave but firm diplomacy, supported by overwhelming 
force, meets every protest with a soothing phrase and 



88 OLD EUROPE'S SUICIDE 

lends an air of elegance to the most sordid bargain. 
When people or States are weak, the path of consent 
descends by hesitating stages from ''No" through "Per- 
haps" to "Yes." 

The Allies did not negotiate upon these lines. They 
invited the Greeks to send practically the whole of their 
army to reinforce the Serbs; in return, they undertook 
to protect Greek communications with Salonika, by oc- 
cupying the "^lOw-contested" zone in Macedonia with 
Allied troops. In all my travels in the Balkan peninsula, 
I had never come across a region to which the descrip- 
tion "non-contested" could be applied with any accu- 
racy ; in London and Paris it was visualized by a miracle 
of self-deception, and acted like a charm. Here was the 
solution of the Balkan question, an Allied force, im- 
mobilized in this mysterious zone, would hold the Bul- 
garians in check, encourage the Serbs and reassure the 
Greeks ; Rumania would see what efforts we were making 
and hurry to our aid; the Turks, trembling for Adrian- 
ople, would make a separate peace. 

For the moment the Greek Government was unable to 
entertain the proposed arrangement ; King Constantine 
and the Greek General Staff rejected the suggested plan 
of operations and put forward another of their own, 
which envisaged a second campaign against Turkey and 
opened up alluring prospects further East. Tempo- 
rarily, the negotiations failed to secure either the co- 
operation of the Greek Army or a more benevolent neu- 
trality on the part of Greece. The political situation 
in Athens became more and more confused. Allied 
diplomacy paid assiduous court to M. Venizelos and, 
thereby, excited the jealousy and mistrust of the Eang. 



NEUTRAL BALKAN STATES— 1915 89 

Telegrams from an Imperial "War Lord addressed to 
''Tino" flattered the monarch's vanity as a strategist, 
he laughed, with some reason, at our tactics, and grew 
convinced we could not win the war. 

Sofia presented a very different aspect from Athens. 
In the Bulgarian capital there was little bustle in the 
streets, political excitement was not apparent, the in- 
habitants went about their business quietly and, in the 
case of most of them, that business was military in its 
nature. Bulgaria, though unwilling to commit herself 
permanently, still nursed her wrongs; to obtain redress 
for these was the object of the entire people, and no 
neutral State was better prepared for war. 

The alliance of Bulgaria was on the market, obtain- 
able by either set of belligerents at a price; that price 
was the territory in Thrace and Macedonia, of which 
Bulgaria considered she had been wrongfully deprived 
by the Treaty of Bucharest. If the Allies could have 
satisfied the Bulgarian Government on this point, the 
Bulgarian Army would have been employed with the 
same soulless ferocity against the Turks as, in the end, 
it displayed against the Serbs. 

The situation was clearly defined, and the role of 
diplomacy limited to the manipulation of cross-currents 
of popular feeling and personal sympathies, which, in 
Bulgaria as in every other State, divided opinion among 
several political camps. Unfortunately for the Allies, 
neither the British nor the French representative in 
Sofia had the requisite qualifications for making verbiage 
about a ''non-contested" zone pass for a definite policy 
in the Balkans. The British Minister was — rightly or 
wrongly — credited with Servian sympathies, the French 



90 OLD EUROPE'S SUICIDE 

Minister was not a "persona grata" with King Fer- 
dinand, whose favour was all-important in a diplomatic 
sense. There does not appear to have been any reason 
for the retention of either of these officials in their posts, 
except the habitual unwillingness of government depart- 
ments to disturb routine. The difficulty of finding sub- 
stitutes did not arise in either case. Our Foreign Office 
had at its disposal a brilliant young diplomatist, with a 
unique experience of Balkan capitals, who could have 
rendered more useful services as Minister in Sofia than 
as Counsellor of Embassy in "Washington ; a well-selected 
French aristocrat would have received a cordial welcome 
from a Prince of the Orleans family, who himself con- 
trolled Bulgaria's foreign policy, and whose "spiritual 
home" was France. The foregoing were some of the 
imponderable factors in Bulgaria; in 1914 they could 
have been turned to good account, in 1915 it was per- 
haps too late. 

In time of war, a diplomatic duel is like a game of 
cards in which victories are trumps ; no amount of diplo- 
matic skill can convert defeat into success. During the 
spring and summer of 1915, our Diplomats in the Bal- 
kans fought an unequal fight. The conviction that a 
stalemate existed on the front in France and Flanders 
was daily gaining ground, public attention was concen- 
trated on the Dardanelles, and here the operations were 
followed with an interest as critical as it was intelligent. 
During the war against Turkey, the topographical fea- 
tures in this theatre had been closely studied by the 
Bulgarian General Staff, when a portion of the Bul- 
garian Army had penetrated into Turkish Thrace as far 
as the lines of Bulair. To these men our tactics became 
daily more incomprehensible. At first, the assaults on 



NEUTRAL BALKAN STATES— 1915 91 

the Western extremity of the Gallipoli Peninsula were 
taken to be feints, intended to cover a landing in the 
neighbourhood of Enos, but, when it was realized that 
these were the major operations, when thousands of 
lives were sacrificed for the capture of a few bare and 
waterless cliffs, their bewilderment became intensified, 
and into all their minds there crept a doubt. General 
Fitcheff, the Chief of Staff and a man whose English 
sympathies were widely known, ran considerable risks 
by giving his expert advice in regard to a landing on 
the coast near Enos; he was no arm-chair critic but a 
practical soldier with recent and personal experience of 
battlefields in Thrace. His views were identical with 
those of the King of Greece and, indeed, of the vast ma- 
jority of soldiers in the Balkans. They were rejected or 
ignored; a pseudo-omniscient optimism pervaded Allied 
counsels and acted like a blight. 

Our friends in Bulgaria contemplated the useless 
slaughter at Gallipoli with horror and dismay, waverers 
turned to German agents, who took full advantage of 
every change of mood. An influx of German officers and 
officials began about this time; they had access to all 
Government departments, and assumed control of part 
of the Bulgarian railway system; as one result of their 
activities Constantinople received supplies of ammuni- 
tion, whose Bulgarian origin was suspected if not known. 

The journey from Sofia to Bucharest lasts less than 
twenty-four hours, its one noteworthy feature is the 
abrupt transition from a Slavonic to a Latin race. The 
Bulgars are reserved and taciturn, strangers are treated 
coldly, they are not wanted unless they come on business 
whose utility can be proved. I left Sofia impressed by 
the efficiency and self-confidence of the people, but 



92 OLD EUROPE'S SUICIDE 

chilled by their morose and almost sullen ways. On 
crossing the Danube a new world was entered, where 
hearts were warm and life was gay and easy, where 
ever}^ one talked cleverly and much, and where, perhaps, 
words counted more than deeds. 

In the spring of 1915 Bucharest was a diplomatic 
arena, in which all the Great Powers were making pro- 
digious efforts. Russia had ceased to treat her southern 
neighbour as a revolted colony; the Central Empires 
had developed a sudden sympathy for Rumania's na- 
tional aspirations, more especially in the direction of 
Bessarabia ; Great Britain had made a loan of £5,000,000, 
on little or no security, and, as a further proof of dis- 
interested friendship, was buying a large proportion of 
the output of the oilfields, regardless of the impossibility 
of either using or exporting this more than ever precious 
product. A golden age had dawned, business men were 
doing a roaring trade, cereals were being bought at fancy 
prices and, looming ahead, were brighter prospects still. 

I looked for the warlike preparations of which the 
War Office in London had so confidently spoken. Of 
officers there appeared to be no dearth, the streets and 
cafes were crowded with brilliant uniforms, whose 
wearers sauntered slowly to and fro, bestowing glances 
on the softer sex which were returned in kind. To 
seek the favour of the fair has at all times been a martial 
occupation. A wise man once remarked: "I know not 
how, but martial men are given to love," and added 
some comments on perils, wine and pleasures which 
seemed to fit this case. But war is not made with officers 
alone, men are required, men of the people, who have 
no decorative functions in the piping times of peace. 
These were lacking, they were neither on the streets nor 



NEUTRAL BALKAN STATES— 1915 93 

in the barracks, they were in their homes, producing 
wealth and not yet bearing arms. 

Rumania was not prepared for war ; no reservists had 
been mobilized, training depots were at normal strength, 
there was a shortage of horses for the Cavalry and Field 
Artillery, the Heavy Artillery was deficient both in qual- 
ity and quantity, the aviation equipment was out of 
date, last but not least, the reserve stocks of ammuni- 
tion had been depleted, and the Rumanian arsenals 
lacked the plant needed for their replenishment and the 
maintenance of an army in the field. 

A policy which co-ordinated diplomacy and strategy 
would have carefully weighed the "pros" and "cons" of 
an alliance with Rumania. The mere presence of an 
army in a certain geographical position means little, un- 
less that army is an organization ready to act, containing 
within itself the means whereby its action can be sus- 
tained. Rumania was a granary of corn, a reservoir of 
oil, both valuable commodities, though more so to our 
enemies than ourselves, but, from a military point of 
view, the co-operation of this land of plenty involved a 
heavy charge. To meet this charge, not only had guns 
and ammunition to be sent, the Rumanian Army was 
short of everything, including boots and clothes. Sup- 
ply alone, though at this period difficult enough, did not 
completely solve the problem, delivery required com- 
munications capable of transporting at least 300 tons a 
day. No such communications existed between Rumania 
and the Western Powers. Imports could reach Buchar- 
est or Jassy only through Servia or Russia, the railways 
in both countries were inefficient and congested, to send 
ammunition by these routes, in time of war, was to pass 
it through a sieve. The prophecy, made in May, 1915, 



94 OLD EUROPE'S SUICIDE 

that the then existing communications could not deliver 
more than a seventh of Rumania 's requirements was well 
within the mark. 

In short, in the spring and summer of 1915, the alliance 
of Rumania would have been for the Western Powers a 
doubtful advantage and a heavy responsibility. The 
first of these considerations might, at least, have re- 
strained the French Minister at Bucharest from demand- 
ing Rumanian intervention with a vehemence which too 
frequently degenerated into insult; it was fully appre- 
ciated by the Grand Duke Nicholas who, in his quality 
of Russian Generalissimo, described as "une folic fur- 
ieuse" what the French Diplomat thought would turn 
the scale in favour of the Allied cause. The second 
consideration should have appealed to the British Gov- 
ernment, the representatives of a people who look before 
they leap, British statesmanship had inspired the Near 
Eastern policy of the Allies, and had chosen as first 
objectives Constantinople and the Dandanelles, Impar- 
tial historians will justify this choice ; here lay the key 
of the whole Balkan situation, here were the lever and 
the fulcrum with which to actuate the Neutral States. 
Once masters of Constantinople and its waterways, the 
Allies would have found Rumania willing, when ready 
with their help, to co-operate in a concerted plan. Her 
army, based on the Black Sea and the Danube, would 
have become dynamic, a source of strength, instead of 
weakness, to an inert and passive Russian front; Bul- 
garia, reduced to impotence, would either have kept a 
strict neutrality or, breaking unnatural bonds, have re- 
turned to the Russian fold; the Greeks, with their eyes 
on Smyrna, could not have held aloof. 

During the early months of 1915, diplomatic activity 



NEUTRAL BALKAN STATES— 1915 95 

in Athens and Sofia might have achieved results, it 
might, conceivably, have secured the co-operation of the 
Greeks and Bulgars in our operations at the Dardanelles ; 
at Bucharest the position was wholly different. To urge 
Rumanian intervention at this period was foolish and 
immoral, it demanded an immense sacrifice from the 
Rumanian people which could not help the Allies and 
might do their cause incalculable harm. 

Owing to geographical conditions, the Central Empires 
were able to offer Rumania more than merely contingent 
support in return for her co-operation and alliance. 
Numerous railways cross the Carpathians and by means 
of these the Rumanian army could have been promptly 
equipped and efficiently maintained during a forward 
movement into Bessarabia, a province described by Ger- 
man Diplomats as Rumania's "promised land." 

Rumania lay between the upper and the nether mill- 
stones of belligerent diplomacy, the mill was working 
at high pressure, but was not grinding small. M. Brat- 
iano, the Rumanian Prime Minister, was equally unin- 
fluenced by the promises of Germany, the blandish- 
ments of Russia, the taunts of France, and the loans of 
Great Britain. He refused to deviate from a policy of 
more or less impartial neutrality, and awaited what he 
himself described as "le moment opportun."^ 

Disgruntled allied diplomats and many of his coun- 
trymen reproached M. Bratiano with lethargy and cow- 
ardice, in reality they owed him a debt of gratitude; 
better than they he knew the unreadiness of the army 
and the country for an adventurous policy, and, for- 
tunately for Rumania in 1915, he possessed sufficient 
sense and courage to reject their amateurish plans. On 

1 The opportune moment. 



96 OLD EUROPE'S SUICIDE 

the other hand, he had too sound a judgment to be daz- 
zled by proposals, however spacious, which held out pros- 
pects of territorial conquest at the expense of Russia, 
although, as his father's son,^ he suspected all Russians 
of treachery and guile. 

Since the death of King Charles in November, 1914, 
M. Bratiano had been the guiding force in Rumanian 
political life ; he stood between the extremists, who clam- 
oured for intervention on the Allied side without regard 
for consequences, and the Pro-germans, whose hatred 
and mistrust of Russia had overcome the instincts of 
men of a Latin race ; his influence with King Ferdinand 
was undisputed, he used it to impose a neutral attitude, 
both in the Council and at Court. This man had many 
qualities of high statesmanship, he loved his country and 
had at least one deep conviction — he was convinced that 
in the end the Allies would win the war. 

"Le moment opportun" of M, Bratiano was the mo- 
ment when Rumania could take up arms to fight on the 
Allies' side, under conditions which would confer a 
reasonable prospect of success; in his more expansive 
moods he confessed to cherishing the hope, and even the 
belief, that the Rumanian Army would deal the decisive 
blow. A proud thought this, coming from a citizen of a 
little Neutral State during so great a war; but Ion 
Bratiano was nothing if not proud. 

Events were to put a heavy strain on the Prime Min- 
ister's faith and hope, times of trial and temptation lay 
ahead, when more garrulous champions of the Entente 
were to give way to doubt. The withdrawal from the 

1 The father of M. Bratiano was the celebrated Rumanian patriot who, 
in 1878, was triclsed out of Bessarabia by Prince Gortchalcoff, the 
Russian Envoy, at the Treaty of Vienna. 



NEUTRAL BALKAN STATES— 1915 97 

Dardanelles, Bulgaria's alliance with tlie Central Powers 
and Servians subsequent rout were incidents charged 
with grave import to Rumania, and destined to postpone 
indefinitely ' ' le moment opportun. ' ' M. Bratiano never 
wavered, he waited patiently, by thus resisting the im- 
pulses of interest and sentiment, he faithfully interpreted 
the Rumanian people's will. 

1915 was a black year for the Allies, a period of diplo- 
matic defeats and military disasters. The officials and 
experts had had their way ; the policy, which had fright- 
ened them and of which they had disapproved, had been 
reversed; Servia, the victim of predigested plans, had 
been overrun, the succour so long demanded had been 
sent three months too late ; the Near East, save for some 
ragged remnants, immobilized in Macedonia, had been 
denuded of troops and abandoned to the enemy; the 
legend of British tenacity and perseverance had been 
tried in a fiery furnace and had not survived the test. 

Confusion, both mental and material, prevailed 
throughout the British Empire ; a vague uneasiness had 
entered every mind; a race of hero-worshippers had 
vainly sought a hero and the market place was strewn 
with broken idols. The war had introduced a new di- 
mension, an all pervading influence, a nightmare which 
haunted waking moments, a great winding-sheet, a del- 
luge submerging human thought. 

During these days of evil omen, one reassurance was 
vouchsafed, one thought consoled, lightening an atmos- 
phere of gloom like a rainbow in a lowering sky. The 
British people, though disillusioned and humiliated, still 
kept the virtues of their race; in their hour of trial, 
they rose above misfortune, and proved themselves 



98 OLD EUROPE'S SUICIDE 

worthy descendants of the inspired adventurers whose 
heritage they held. Men to whom war was odious de- 
veloped into seasoned warriors, and women, who had 
never worked before, gave up their lives to toil. 

On battlefields, heroic valour was regarded as a com- 
monplace, in countless homes, self-sacrifice became a 
daily rite. In British hearts, despair had found no 
place, theirs was a confidence bom of consciousness of 
strength, the strength which in Kinglake's glowing 
words is: "Other than that of mere riches, other than 
that of gross numbers, strength carried by proud descent 
from one generation to another, strength awaiting the 
trials that are to come." 



CHAPTER X 

Sleeping "Waters 

Oh Angel of the East one, one gold look 
Across the waters to this twilight nook, 
The far sad waters. Angel, to this nook ! 

RoBT. Browning. 

Before Rumania became a kingdom, and while Walla- 
chia and Moldavia were separate Principalities, under 
the suzerainty of Turkish Sultans, a Russian Army oc- 
cupied the land, the pretext for its presence being the 
maintenance of law and order. The Russian Govern- 
ment appointed as Pro-Consul a certain General Kissileff, 
who planted trees and laid out roads and proved him- 
self a wdse administrator; the good he did survives him, 
one of the roads he planned and built commemorates 
his name. 

The Chaussee Kissileff, or for short The Chaussee, is 
an avenue of lime trees, which forms the first stage of 
Rumania's "Great North Road." Four lines of trees 
border two side tracks and the Central Chaussee. Dur- 
ing the winter months, their spreading branches afford 
protection from the wind and rain, in spring and sum- 
mer, they fill the air with fragrance and cast a grateful 
shade. This thoroughfare is a boon to Bucharest, it is 
at once an artery and a lung. Here, when Rumania was 
a neutral, courted State, beauty encountered valour, 
while nursemaids, children, dogs and diplomats, of every 
breed and nation, walked, toddled, gambolled, barked, or 

99 



100 OLD EUROPE'S SUICIDE 

passed on scandal, according to their nature and their 
age. 

Beyond the race course the Chaussee bifurcates. One 
branch I have already called Rumania's "Great North 
Road," it leads, as its name implies, due north to the 
oilfields and the mountains ; the other is a humbler route, 
trending westward across a stretch of open country 
towards a wooded, dim horizon. It I will name Ru- 
mania's ''Pilgrim's Way." 

When I was a dweller in the plain, few houses, large or 
small, stood on "The Pilgrim's Way," which, after dip- 
ping to a stream, curved to the west and followed the 
northern bank, its bourne some feathery treetops, its 
only guardians cohorts of unseen frogs, whose multitud- 
inous voices rose in chorus, ranging the diapason of 
croaking, guttural sounds. This was no intermediate 
zone athwart the road to Hades, but the frontier of a 
region known to some as "Sleeping Waters," whose 
chief city was a garden on the stream's bank and be- 
yond the distant trees. 

The votaries of wealth and recreation^ followed the 
"Great North Road," seeking Ploesti's oily treasures 
or villas and a casino at Sinaia, where the gay world 
of Bucharest breathed mountain air in the Carpathian 
foothills, and summer heat was tempered amid peren- 
nial pines. 

"The Pilgrim's Way" was less frequented, but the 
pilgrims, though not numerous, were, not the less select. 
Among them were the Monarch and his Queen, the Prime 
]\Iinister, the representatives of several foreign Powers, 
and men and women bearing names which rang like 
echoes of Rumania's history when Princes ruled the land. 

If asked why they made their pilgrimage so often, the 



SLEEPING WATERS 101 

pilgrims would have answered with a half-truth: "We 
seek serenity in a garden fair, and shade and quiet after 
the city's heat and noise" — they certainly did not go to 
meet each other, nor did they, like Chaucer's characters, 
tell tales and gossip as they fared along the road — they 
went to the same shrine, but went separately, they made 
their vows to the same Deity, but they made them one by 
one. 

Two landmarks lay beside the road, serving as meas- 
ures of the Pilgrim's Progress, both were pathetic and 
symbolical — one was a broken bridge, which was always 
being repaired in slow and dilatory fashion, the other a 
mill, which never appeared to work. 

Bratiano himself had built bridges in his youth, and, 
speaking both as expert and Prime Minister, he declared 
one day that when the bridge would be completely 
mended Rumania would forswear neutrality and join 
the Allied Cause. A whimsical conceit indeed, but il- 
lustrative of its author's mood. When Italy, a Latin 
and a sister State, bound, like Rumania, by a Treaty to 
both the Central Powers, had taken the irrevocable step, 
work was resumed upon the bridge with greater energy ; 
but soon it languished, and blocks of rough-hewn stone 
encumbered the wayside, mute symbols of the hesitation 
which was still torturing a cautious statesman's mind. 

The mill stands at the western end of a broad reach 
of the same stream which traverses the realm of frogs; 
the waters, held up by a dam, are as still and motionless 
as a standing pond, and yet they once had turned the 
mill wheel, although, no doubt, they had always seemed 
to sleep. A village begins here where the waters 
broaden; three j^ears ago it was a straggling street of 
squalid houses, where peasants dwelt in the intervals of 



102 OLD EUROPE'S SUICIDE 

laborious days. Rumanian peasants, at this period, lived 
under laws whicli left them little liberty, and gave them 
few delights. Their toil accumulated riches for their 
masters, the hereditary owners of the soil, while they 
eked out a scanty livelihood, and though in name free 
men, in fact they were half slaves. 

Peasants when slaves are seldom rebels. Spartacus 
has won a place in history by being the exception to the 
rule, a rule well known to men who never read a book, 
but feel instinctively that they themselves are helpless 
to redress their wrongs. Such is the bitter truth, and 
those who should know better often presume on it, until 
their victims, exasperated by neglect and insolence, lose 
for a while the habit of forbearance, flame into sudden 
anger, indulge in fierce reprisals, and when exhaustion 
follows relapse into dull despair. Wrongs unredressed 
resemble pent-up waters, which seek an outlet, useful or 
wasteful as the case may be, and finding none, in time 
they sweep away the stoutest dam, causing widespread 
destruction by their dissipated force. 

In 1907 a large number of Rumanian peasants had re- 
volted. Order, so-called, had been restored by employ- 
ing other peasants, clothed in uniforms, to shoot their 
fellow-sufferers down. The tragedy of violence and re- 
pression was of but short duration ; once more the peas- 
ants resigned themselves to fate, once more their smould- 
ering passions were pent up by a dam of military force. 

Bratiano, as leader of the Liberal Party, became Prime 
Minister at the end of 1913; he realized more clearly 
than his predecessors that Rumania's peasant popula- 
tion was one of the country's greatest assets, and that, 
under the then existing conditions, this asset was not 
being fully utilized. His Government was pledged to a 



SLEEPING WATERS 103 

scheme of agrarian reform, and began its task with a 
characteristic act — money was needed, but increased 
taxation meant loss of popularity, and so the Army vote 
was drawn upon, and the equipment of the troops neg- 
lected. Like many others, Bratiano had refused to be- 
lieve that the German people would so abase themselves 
before the Junkers as to permit the latter to provoke a 
European war; he had been mistaken, he had erred by 
rating common sense too high. When Germany's crim- 
inal folly became an accomplished fact, it found the 
Rumanian Army unprepared, and shattered Bratiano 's 
plans. Rumania, though a neutral State, lived in the 
shadow of the cataclysm, perpetually a prey to excur- 
sions and alarms; reforms in such an atmosphere were 
impossible, the old abuses lingered, the middle classes 
reaped a golden harvest, and further claims were made 
on the patience of the poor. 

Mad misdirection and abuse of human effort were dis- 
integrating Central Europe, and had paralysed progres- 
sive legislation in every neighbouring State. During his 
frequent pilgrimages, a disappointed statesman had 
time for sombre meditations, he may have seen a symbol 
of them in a wide stretch of sleeping waters stagnating 
round a disused mill. 

An avenue of elm trees leads westward from the mill, 
skirting the water's edge; it runs in a straight line on 
level ground, and so, a pilgrim entering by the gate 
could see at the far end, although it was a kilometre dis- 
tant, a walnut tree against a white background. When 
blazing sunlight beat down on the fields and swirls of 
dust choked travellers on the road, this avenue was al- 
ways cool and green and, like a vast cathedral's nave, 
soothed anxious, troubled spirits and rested dazzled eyes. 



104 OLD EUROPE'S SUICIDE 

At all seasons of the year, an innumerable host of rooks 
circled above the elms, and from a choir in the clouds 
bird-voices pealed in deep-toned rapturous crescendos, 
lulling the memories of petty strife and discord brought 
from the city in the plain. 

Three years ago, a low two-storied building, in colour 
mainly white, with wide verandahs embowered in 
creepers, stood out against the sky beyond the walnut 
tree. The house faced south, on both sides and behind 
it were open spaces flanked by greenhouses and walled 
gardens, through which there ran an avenue of Italian 
poplars, linking the village with a private chapel; in 
front, the ''sleeping waters" spread out in their full 
glory, a broad and placid surface fringed with willows, 
which leaned away from the supporting banks as though 
they sought their own reflection. Between the waters 
and the house a palace stood, empty but not a ruin, a 
monumental relic of a bygone reign and period; stand- 
ing four square, crowned and protected by a roof of 
slate. Such buildings can be seen in Venice and 
Ragusa, with fluted columns poised on balustrades of 
rich and fanciful design, composing graceful loggias. 

More than two centuries have passed since Bassarab 
Brancovan, a ruling prince, first brought Italian crafts- 
men to Wallachia. The tokens of these exiles' art are 
numerous, but nowhere do they find such perfect and 
complete expression as in this palace, built for the prince 
himself, whose pale, brick walls, with fretted cornices 
and sculptured Gothic windows, are mirrored in a glassy 
surface and framed by willow trees. 

Within the dwelling-house, the rooms looked larger 
than they were, an optical illusion being produced by 
shadows on floor and ceiling and comers obscured in 



SLEEPING WATERS 105 

gloom. The curtains hung upon the walls like draperies, 
and chairs and tables were disposed in groups, with an 
unerring instinct for achieving harmony between util- 
ity and taste. Flowers were never absent from these 
rooms, and made the house a floral temple, whose fore- 
court was alternately the greenhouse and the garden, 
the former produced in January what the latter gave in 
June. 

Such was the shrine — the presiding Deity was a lady 
still young in years, but learned in history and the arts, 
beyond the compass of most men. With her there lived 
her daughter and an English governess, a peacock in 
the garden and a mouse-coloured Persian cat. 

Here, men whose lives were darkened by suspicion 
found a rare atmosphere, where mystery was physical, 
and did not hide the truth ; here, could be learned the 
story of a race from one whose memory was saturated 
with traditions, who faced the future calmly, knowing 
its perils, sustained by hope and faith; here could be 
heard the twin voices of sanity and reason, expounding 
not what Rumania was supposed to think, but what 
Rumania thought. 

In Bucharest, a very different tone prevailed — senti- 
mentality, not wholly free from interest, combined with 
unscrupulous propaganda to misrepresent the issues be- 
fore the Rumanian people and the Government. Even 
official representatives of the Allied Powers joined in 
the conspiracy of deception. In the month of April, 
1915, the French Military Attache announced, with all 
the authority conferred by his position and access to 
secret sources of information, that the Germans could 
not continue the war for more than two months from 
the date on which he spoke, as their stocks of copper 



106 OLD EUROPE'S SUICIDE 

were exhausted ; the argument based on this astounding 
statement was that Rumania should intervene at once, 
and lay hands on Transylvania before it would be too 
late. In private life a man who tried to gain advance- 
ment by such methods would be locked up for fraud. 

In England and France the ignorance about Rumania, 
even in official circles^ was amazing ; for knowledge ready 
substitutes were found in prejudices and preconceived 
ideas. These ideas were based on reports furnished by 
Secret Service agents of the most obvious description, 
whose exemplars were the villains in the novels of Le 
Queux, and who were regarded with amusement and 
contempt by people on the spot. The information thus 
obtained consisted of echoes from the cafes and excerpts 
from the gutter press. It was sensational enough, 
though mischievous and misleading, and gave satisfac- 
tion to officials who never faced realities, unless they 
suited their desires. 

By certain circles at Bucharest, the foibles of the 
Allied Governments were systematically exploited: poli- 
ticians emerged from the shades of opposition into a 
meretricious limelight; bankers and business men made 
deals which opened up an El Dorado, and social grudges 
were revived under the cloak of patriotic zeal. While 
Rumania remained a neutral State, Bucharest was a city 
divided against itself. Two camps were formed, a war 
of words was waged; slander and calumny were the 
weapons, and were wielded by both men and women 
with venom and impunity. 

To minds possessed and poisoned by this ignoble 
strife, the calm serenity of "the sleeping waters" was 
anathema; the extremists and their partisans viewed 
with suspicion a detachment which was as natural as it 



SLEEPING WATERS 107 

was sincere. They could not understand, far less for- 
give, an attitude of aloofness to their cliques and com- 
binations ; they were enraged by such neglect, since, with 
some reason, they took it for disdain. Thoughtless them- 
selves, and caught up in a vortex of mental confusion 
and unreason, they poured the vials of their jealousy 
and hate upon a head as innocent as fair, because it 
dared to think. 

* * * * 

By a strange turn of fate, I meditate this fragment 
of past memories down by the waters of Old Nile. Be- 
hind me rise the columns of a temple, whose capitals 
portray the Lotus and Papyrus, signs of the River God. 
Before me lies the tank, where the god lived three thou- 
sand years ago. By the same path on which I stand were 
hurried shrieking victims, as sacrifices to a crocodile, an 
animal so dangerous to river folk that they worshipped 
it, and sought to propitiate the object of their fear with 
their own flesh and blood. 

Man's nature has changed little since those days; his 
cruelty takes more subtle forms, but is not a whit less 
harsh. His god is Mammon, and his victims the poor 
and weak, or those who, by innate superiority, are an 
unconscious menace and reproach. The sacrificial act 
does not consist in killing — to Mammon, oblations must 
be made in such a way as not to roughly kill the victims 
but first to spoil their lives. 



CHAPTER XI 

The Disaster in Rumania — 1916 

During the early mnoths of 1916, Bucharest had been 
comparatively neglected by the Foreign Offices of the 
belligerent States. So far as could be seen, the Central 
Empires had abandoned the hope of obtaining Rumanian 
co-operation against Russia. Count Czernin ^ had ex- 
pressed himself openly to that effect, and his German 
colleague, though more discreet, in all probability shared 
his views. The French and Italian Ministers were a 
prey to exasperation and suspicions; to them it seemed 
outrageous that a little Latin State should refuse to act 
on French advice or to follow Italy's example; their 
prejudices warped their judgment, they lost their sense 
of dignit}^ and sank to the level of mere partisans. 
Such men could not influence the coldly logical mind of 
Bratiano, who treated them with scorn. The British and 
Russian Ministers were the buttresses of allied diplomacy 
in Bucharest. Both stood for so much; one was the 
spokesman of a people whose good faith and love of 
fair play were still unquestioned, the other was the 
envoy of the only Allied Power in direct contact with 
Rumania, a Power whose past conduct had justified mis- 
trust but whose size inspired fear. Through no fault 
of their own, these two men were unable to exert their 
proper influence; neither of them had definite instruc- 

1 Count Czernin was at this period Austro-Hungarian Minister in 
Bucharest ; he succeeded Count Berchtold as Chancellor in the Dual 
Monarchy after the death of the Emperor Francis Joseph. 

108 



THE DISASTER IN RUMANIA 109 

tions from his Government, and both had learned, from 
past experience, that under such conditions it was bet- 
ter to "wait and see." To any dispassionate observer 
on the spot, this meant — to wait on events and see dis- 
aster come. 

The perils of premature intervention, both for the 
Allies and the Rumanian people, were only too obvious. 
While Rumania's sole link with the Western Powers 
was a precarious line of communications through Rus- 
sia, her neutrality was preferable to her alliance; the 
former M^as no doubt unsatisfactorj^ but the latter ex- 
posed a reservoir of food supplies and petrol to invasion 
from the south and west. Even if properly equipped 
and efficiently maintained, the Rumanian Army would 
have had no easy task; in the absence of these condi- 
tions it was madness to go to war. 

In Paris, the irritation was profound. The French 
Government had assumed control of the negotiations 
with the neutral Balkan States, and was mastered by an 
impatience born of intolerance and fear. This frame 
of mind had been induced by a total misconception of 
the real facts of the case. There was no danger that the 
Rumanian people, however tempted, would join the Cen- 
tral Powers. Bratiano surveyed the European situation 
through the same telescope as the Allies. He saw their 
final triumph clearly, but knew it was not so close as 
they imagined. His vision, perhaps, had magnified the 
distance by looking through the larger end, but, unlike 
them, he knew the complexity of the problem to be dealt 
with in the East ; they viewed it merely as an adjunct to 
the slaughter in the West. 

The Quai d'Orsay was quite incapable of appreciating 
the Rumanian point of view ; its self-appointed task was 



110 OLD EUROPE'S SUICIDE 

* ' to bring Rumania in. ' ' Persuasion, on moral and sen- 
timental grounds, had been unavailing. Some details of 
the Italian Treaty had leaked out, and had revealed a 
marked absence of the principles of self-sacrifice and 
abnegation, in the cause of liberty, on the part of a 
greater Latin State. It was clear that Rumania, like 
Italy, would have to get her price ; much would depend, 
however, on the way that price was paid. 

Rumania claimed Transylvania, together with Buko- 
vina and the Banat,^ as her share of the spoil, in the 
event of Allied victory ; she was eager to fight for these 
Austro-Hungarian provinces, if given a fighting chance. 
Unfortunately for the Allies, no amount of eloquence 
could improve the communications through the Russian 
Empire, and a second attempt to force the Dardanelles 
was excluded from their plans. Arguments based on 
the presence of Allied troops at Salonika, with which 
it was suggested the Rumanian Army might co-operate, 
were without effect, and the statement in this connec- 
tion that the shortest way to Budapest was via Sofia was 
regarded as more picturesque than true. The Rumanian 
Government had no desire to make war on the south 
bank of the Danube, where nothing was to be gained, 
and the Rumanian General Staff knew, from experience, 
the difficulties of a Danube crossing if seriously opposed. 
An operation of this nature would have absorbed a large 
proportion of the Rumanian forces, leaving an insuffi- 
cient number to hold the frontier in the Carpathians, 
which was longer than the Allied front in France, while 
the distance from its nearest point to Bucharest was 
less than 100 miles. 

1 An Hungarian province at the confluence of the Danube and the 
Theiss, N.E. of Belgrade. 



THE DISASTER IN RUMANIA 111 

The foregoing were some of the obstacles to Rumanian 
intervention. To overcome them by fair means de- 
manded considerable efforts from the Allies as part of a 
concerted plan. No such plan existed; France could 
offer nothing except promises of ammunition, Great Brit- 
ain could provide ships and money, Russia alone could 
give support and, if the need arose, apply pressure to 
this neutral State. 

The case of Greece was simpler. There, reluctance 
could be dealt with and "unnatural" behaviour pun- 
ished. The Piraeus could be reached by sea, whereas 
Rumania was land-locked to the Allies. The Russian 
Empire was the neighbour and the only highway, and 
Germany was near. 

"All is fair in love and war." The Allies had passed 
through the stage of courtship with Rumania; their 
blandishments and arguments had yielded no results. 
Cajolery of agents behind the back of Bratiano had also 
been tried and failed. Now they declared war on her 
neutrality, and, through the force of circumstances, let 
Russia take the lead. 

The British Government had, as usual, no policy in 
the Balkans, and was amenable to French advice. A 
series of diplomatic rebuffs at Athens had confirmed 
our Foreign Office in its traditional attitude of disin- 
terestedness, and the general feeling was that Rumania, 
in common honesty, should intervene, because she had 
accepted loans. Some people think that British gold can 
purchase anything, including a little country's soul. 
The War Office Staff was absorbed by the operations in 
France and Flanders, to the exclusion of all other thea- 
tres in a world-wide war. To the strategists of White- 
hall the military participation of Rumania was just an- 



112 OLD EUROPE'S SUICIDE 

other ''side-show," which they accepted with some re- 
serves and treated as the lighter side of the war; they 
were prepared to endorse any plan which did not involve 
the use of British soldiers, and left their own selves 
free to duplicate the work of Army Staffs and other ex- 
ponents of "Grand Tactics" already on the Western 
front. Ignorance and indiiference made these officers 
the echoes of Frenchmen who posed as experts; the pro- 
tests of Englishmen who pointed out that the Rumanian 
Army was, figuratively, ' ' in the air, ' ' were brushed aside 
as technical objections, which would have carried weight 
in the "main theatre," but were pretexts, in a "side- 
show," for inaction and delay. These military "Pang- 
losses" had chosen to forget their own shortsightedness 
and mismanagement at Gallipoli, the fate of Servia con- 
tained no lesson for them, they urged Rumania to do 
what they themselves would not have done, and stilled 
the voice of conscience with the hope that all would be 
for the best in the best of all possible alliances, if not at 
once at any rate in the end. What that end would be 
or when it would occur, the official mind could not fore- 
see. It foresaw nothing except a chance of self-advance- 
ment, and that it promptly seized. 

In Petrograd there had never been great enthusiasm 
in regard to Rumanian intervention. Russian military 
opinion, as expressed by the Grand Duke Nicholas in 
1915, had been opposed to an extension of the Eastern 
front by the Rumanian Army, whose unpreparedness 
was well known to the Russian Staff. This reasoning 
had at the time been eminently sound, and the fact that 
in the intervening period Bulgaria had joined forces 
with the Central Powers only increased its cogency. 
Another factor supervened: the men who ruled Russia 



THE DISASTER IN RUMANIA 113 

at this period had not forgotten Plevna.^ Great Powers 
dislike being under obligations to little neighbouring 
States, and are apt to be bad debtors when it comes to 
paying debts. Though not over-burdened with scruples, 
the Russian Government realized that, on this occasion, 
a contract entered into with Rumania might have to be 
fulfilled. The Pan-Slavist elements in Petrograd ob- 
jected to any aggrandizement of the southern neighbour, 
and thought Rumania's price too high; in their eyes, 
postponement of final victory was preferable to having, 
for the second time, so exacting a partner in success. 
Hitherto, Russia had worked to keep Rumania out, while 
France and Great Britain tried to bring her in. 

The Russian character is a strange amalgam ; some of 
its moods are noble and poetic, others are fierce and 
ruthless as those of a wild beast. When the Allies had 
used persuasion with Rumania, Russia had stood aside, 
but when a different note was sounded, when growing 
irritation and impatience decided the Government in 
Paris to force Rumania's hand, a ready and willing in- 
strument was found in the Government of the Czar. 
Here was a policy which gave full scope to strength and 
cunning; Great Britain and France might preach moral- 
ity and justice, Russia would act with violence and guile. 

From the beginning of June onwards, a veil of secrecy 
shrouded the negotiations of the Allies as to the plan of 
action in Rumania. The "High Contracting Parties" 
might well have quoted the hero - of a double murder 
when he said, "Not easily have we three come to this." 
Though they were only planning murder, it was essential 

1 In the war of 1877 between Russia and Turkey, Rumania had coma 
to the rescue of Russia when the Russian army was held up by the 
Turks under Osman Pasha at Plevna. 

2 The husband of Francesca da Rimini, who killed his wife and her 
lover. 



114 OLD EUROPE'S SUICIDE 

for that plan's success to protect it from all criticism 
until it had done its work. 

Early in July the first overt move was made. It 
took the form of a message from Russian General Head- 
quarters, and was sent by General Alexieff, the Chief of 
Staff of all the Russian armies, who, of course, acted in 
his Imperial master's name. The general tenor of this 
communication was to the effect that a favourable oppor- 
tunity had presented itself for Rumania's intervention, 
which, if not seized without delay, might pass irrevoc- 
ably, since her assistance would no longer be required 
and she would not even be permitted to make a triumphal 
entry into Transylvania; the concluding words were, 
''Now or never." A statement, a taunt, and a threat 
made up the Russian ultimatum, for it was nothing else, 
and, as was only fitting, it was communicated by the 
Russian Military Attache to the Rumanian Chief of 
Staff and to the Prime Minister in his dual capacity of 
Minister for War. Within a few days, the British and 
French Military Attaches received instructions from 
their respective War Offices to endorse the communica- 
tion made verbally by their Russian colleague. So far, 
apparently, the Allied Ministers in Bucharest had had no 
instructions in the matter, and two of them, at least, 
continued to "wait and see." 

After the first shock of disgust, Bratiano was inclined 
to pay no attention to proceedings so irregular, as to 
suggest ignorance of international usages on the part of 
certain officers, although they were Chiefs of Staff. He 
may have been right about their ignorance, but the sec- 
ond move must have dispelled any doubts as to their 
pertinacity and intentions. It emanated from Paris and 
from a distinguished military authority. General Joffre 



THE DISASTER IN RUMANIA 115 

instructed the French Military Attache to inform the 
Rumanian War Office that the Central Empires could 
not send more than ten divisions to operate against Ru- 
mania; five of these would be German and five Austro- 
Hungarian divisions. The latter were described as being 
of inferior class. No reference was made to Bulgarian 
or Turkish forces, an omission which justified the infer- 
ence that those already on the southern frontier could 
not be reinforced. The British and Russian Attaches 
were instructed to confirm this estimate. The Ital- 
ian attache had standing orders from his War Office, 
under all and any circumstances, to agree with the 
other three. 

General Joffre was much respected in Rumania. His 
opinion on military matters could not fail to impress a 
civilian, and that opinion had been uttered in no uncer- 
tain voice. For the first time, Bratiano wavered. The 
Rumanian Army consisted of sixteen divisions, of which 
ten were fairly well equipped. If Joffre 's estimate of 
enemy forces were correct, the invasion of Transylvania 
could be undertaken with fair chances of success. 
Agents reported that Germany was weakening and that 
Austro-Hungary was verging on collapse; there might 
be some truth in the Russian General's statement, and 
perhaps "le moment opportun" had come. 

The Prime Minister was the son of a great Rumanian 
patriot and wished to follow in his father's steps; the 
father had united two Principalities in a kingdom, the 
son had set himself the task of extending that kingdom 
beyond the western mountains, and aspired to be the 
architect of the Greater Rumania of his father's pro- 
phetic dreams. Fear of not winning makes men gamble, 
and this anticipatory fear pervaded Bratiano 's mind; 



116 OLD EUROPE'S SUICIDE 

he in whom courage went with pride now quailed before 
prospective self-reproach. 

Allied diplomacy was quick to perceive the effect of 
the first two moves ; these had been, respectively, a threat 
and an assurance, the third was a promise : before Ru- 
mania intervened. General Sarrail 's ^ army would make 
an offensive on a scale large enough to prevent the dis- 
patch of enemy reinforcements from the Salonika front 
to the Dobrudja or the Danube. The strength of the 
enemy forces in Northern Bulgaria was variously esti- 
mated, but the Rumanian General Staff was informed 
that their figures were exaggerated and an emphatic 
denial was given as to the presence of Turkish troops. 
The Allied Intelligence Service overlooked the fact that 
Rumania still had her representatives in Sofia, and 
among them at least one officer who had both eyes and 
ears. 

About this time the Bulgarian Government made over- 
tures to the Rumanian Prime Minister in regard to a 
separate peace. How far these overtures were sincere it 
would be hard to say. Their purpose was to use Ru- 
mania as an intermediarj^ ; their effect was to remove the 
last misgivings from Bratiano's mind. He attached no 
great importance to the Salonika offensive, except 
so far as it might strengthen Bulgaria's desire for 
peace. 

By the end of Jul}' the negotiations for Rumanian iji- 
terveution were far advanced. In these, Russia played 
the leading part ; proposals and counter-proposals passed 
continually between Russian Headquarters and the Ru- 
manian War Office, while in Petrograd acquiescence was, 
at last, obtained for the full payment of Rumania's price. 

1 The French General commanding the Allied Forces at Salonika. 



THE DISASTER IN RUMANIA 117 

On August 16 a Treaty and Military Convention were 
signed by Bratiano and the representatives of the four 
leading Allied States. The Treaty guaranteed to Ru- 
mania, in the event of the Allies being victorious, all the 
territory she claimed in Austria-Hungary, including the 
whole of the region called the Banat at the confluence of 
the Danube and the Theiss. In the Military Conven- 
tion, the Allies promised, among other things : 

An offensive on the Salonika front, to begin ten days 
before Rumania's first act of war; 

A Russian offensive in the Carpathians during Ru- 
mania 's mobilization ; 

The dispatch of Russian forces to the Dobruja, con- 
sisting of two infantry divisions and one cavalry divi- 
sion; 

Supplies of ammunition delivered in Rumania at the 
rate of 300 tons per day. 

Rumania, on her side, undertook to declare war against 
and attack Austria-Hungary with all her land and sea 
forces, at latest, ten daj's after the commencement of the 
Allied offensive on the Salonika front. The declaration 
of war was to be made on the first day of mobilization, 
when it was agreed the Rumanian frontier troops would 
attack the Austro-Hungarian position in the Carpathian 
passes. The only reference to any enemy State other 
than Austria-Hungary concerned Bulgaria; it was in- 
direct, since it applied to the Russian forces to be sent 
to the Dobruja, and laid down that these would co- 
operate with the Rumanians against the Bulgars, al- 
though the Treaty of Alliance did not, as regards the 
latter people, envisage a state of war. In this connec- 
tion there had been a difference of opinion between the 
French and Russians ; the former still hankered after an 



118 OLD EUROPE'S SUICIDE 

invasion of Bulgaria, the latter insisted that Rumania's 
main effort should be made in Transylvania. The Rus- 
sian point of view had prevailed, owing to the fact that 
the Rumanian General Staff refused to undertake any 
operations against Bulgaria without reinforcements of at 
least 150,000 Russian troops. General Alexieff declared 
he could not spare this number, and was reluctant to 
spare even three divisions for the protection of Rumania 
beyond a certain line. That line, as events soon proved, 
was not in the Southern Carpathians nor on the Danube ; 
it was the shortest line between his own left flank and 
the coast of the Black Sea. 

During the night of August 27-28, the first act of 
war took place ; Rumanian troops stormed and captured 
the enemy position in the Carpathians along the whole 
length of frontier, and on the following day war was 
declared formally against Austria-Hungary. The news 
was flashed throughout the world and was considered a 
triumph for the Allies. The wildest stories circulated ; 
the Rumanian Army was described as well-equipped and 
numerous, a host unwearied by the strain of war and 
capable of marching through the mountains as far as 
Budapest. In Paris, joy bordered on hysteria, self-satis- 
faction knew no limits, and the men who had planned 
this master-stroke were the heroes of the hour. London 
and Petrograd were less excited; official appetites were 
whetted but not yet satisfied; in the former, Rumanian 
intervention was still regarded as a ''side-show"; in the 
latter, some schemers saw the curtain rising on a new 
drama in the East. The mass of people in the Allied 
States knew nothing about the situation, but, like the 
"Tommies" in the trenches, they cheered the long- 
awaited tidings that Rumania had come in. 



THE DISASTER IN RUMANIA 119 

Germany at once made common cause with Austria- 
Hungary. The German Minister ^ in Bucharest left the 
Rumanian capital, under escort, disgruntled if not sur- 
prised. Events had moved too quickly for this diplomat. 
The inevitable had happened. He had all along fore- 
seen it; his annoyance was due to the fact that it had 
come too soon. He left behind him tell-tale proofs of 
the baseness to which his country could descend in order 
to win a war; if his departure had not been so hurried, 
the means for poisoning a city 's water would either have 
been taken with him or put to fearful use. As the train 
in which he travelled was crossing the River Sereth,^ he 
said to the ofificer of the escort, "Here is the future fron- 
tier between Austria-Hungary and Russia." He may 
have been merely speculating, as any cynic might, or, on 
the other hand, he may have had an inkling of Russia's 
secret plans. This river marked the shortest line be- 
tween the Russian left in the Carpathians and the coast 
of the Black Sea. North of it lay Moldavia, a pastoral 
land and poor; south of it lay "Wallachia, teeming with 
com and oil. Rumania was a pygmy State and had en- 
tered on a war of giants ; to both her greater neighbours 
it would not have been displeasing if she were broken on 
the wheel. In Petrograd, it was rumoured that certain 
members of the Government were inclined for a separate 
peace, and it was common knowledge that the Central 
Empires stood in desperate need of Wallachia 's resources. 
To an intelligent German diplomat, these were the ele- 
ments of a deal. 

The details of the campaign in Rumania will form the 
subject of a detailed history and, in so far as the conduct 

1 Baron yon der Blische ; he became later Under-Secretary of State 
In the Foreign OflBce at Berlin. 

2 The River Sereth divides Wallachia from Moldavia. 



120 OLD EUROPE'S SUICIDE 

of the Rumanian peasants was concerned, will furnish 
a record of heroism and endurance unsurpassed in any 
theatre of war. From the very outset the Rumanian 
General Staff was confronted with the impossible task 
of undertaking simultaneously an offensive in a moun- 
tainous country and holding two lengthy frontiers con- 
verging in a narrow salient. In most essential respects 
the Allies broke their promises, as set forth in the Con- 
vention they had signed. Ten days after the first in- 
vasion of Transylvania, General Sarrail announced that 
the preparations for his offensive were "pursuing their 
normal course," an offensive which should have started 
some twenty days before. The Russians remained inac- 
tive in the Carpathians and, so far from anticipating the 
forward movement of the Rumanian Army, failed to co- 
operate when it had been made. The supplies of ammu- 
nition, so confidently promised, arrived in driblets; the 
average quantity received was 80 tons per day. 

To the surprise of both Bratiano and the Government 
in Petrograd, Bulgaria acted with her Allies. Up to the 
last moment the Prime Minister had believed in the sin- 
cerity of the peace overtures, and most Russian officers 
w^ere convinced that their mere presence in the Dobruja 
would have a pacifying effect. In the event, Bulgarian 
forces attacked (without a declaration of war) the Ru- 
manian bridgeheads on the south bank of the Danube 
and invaded the Dobruja, where they were reinforced by 
Turks. A situation had arisen which had not been fore- 
seen in the Military Convention. The southern frontier 
was now seriously threatened, and the Russian detach- 
ment was not strong enough, in co-operation with six 
weak Rumanian divisions, to hold it throughout its 
length. 



THE DISASTER IN RUMANIA 121 

General Joffre's estimate of the enemy forces which 
could be brought against Rumania, so far from being 
approximately exact, was eventuall}^ exceeded more than 
threefold. Fresh troops were continually launched 
against the wearied Rumanian soldiers, who, from sheer 
fatigue, at last became demoralized. Retreats followed 
in quick succession on the first brilliant advance in 
Transylvania; the Rumanians were forced to abandon 
all their conquests, since, at every point of contact, they 
were outnumbered and outgunned. Paris and London 
were not sparing in advice, but of that Rumania had no 
need. She needed guns and men ; Russia alone could 
give them and, for the moment, Russia would not give. 
A storm of criticism now arose. The men who had 
forced Rumania's hand perceived that disaster was im- 
pending, they sought an explanation for it, and blamed 
the Rumanian troops. 

"War, it is claimed, discovers many virtues. It does 
not create them but it does provide an opportunity for 
their exploitation by men who do not fight on battle- 
fields. To these latter, war is Jack Horner's pie; they 
pull out all the plums complacently, and sit in safe but 
not secluded corners, clinging like limpets to official rank. 
They mask with mystery their mediocrity and take the 
line of least resistance. Success in life has taught them 
that responsibility, especially when moral, is one of the 
things to shirk. They never are to blame when failure 
issues from their plans ; that is the fault of other men, 
who are simple enough to fight. 

"While such men retain their present influence, the 
peoples must prepare for war. No League of Nations 
will control them; they will control the League. 

On November 24, a detachment of German troops 



122 OLD EUROPE'S SUICIDE 

crossed the Danube 56 miles soutli-west of Bucharest, 
under cover of a thick fog. The end had come. Buchar- 
est was doomed; enemy forces were converging on the 
capital from three directions ; they were already in pos- 
session of the rich com lands of Wallachia, and were 
threatening the oilfields both from the north and west. 
The Eumanian General Staff made a last appeal for Rus- 
sian reinforcements and some were sent, but their move- 
ments were so slow and their co-operation so half-hearted, 
that even Russian representatives at Rumanian Head- 
quarters joined in indignant protests. 

As early as September, General Alexieff had advised 
a retirement to the Sereth, although he must have real- 
ized that such an operation involved abandoning, with- 
out a struggle, the two main objectives of the Central 
Empires, viz., the resources of Wallachia and access to 
the Danube ports between Galatz and the Iron Gate. 
If this man was honest, he was incompetent; no other 
explanation can be given of such fatal obstinacy and 
pride. His advice had not been taken, so he left Walla- 
chia unsupported and flooded Moldavia with Russian 
Army Corps. These troops lived on the country-side 
like locusts and drained it of supplies, but they did not 
make the offensive so long promised, that was indefinitely 
postponed. 

Despondency and alarm pervaded Bucharest. The 
civilian elements did not fear the Germans, but they 
dreaded the Turks and Bulgars, whose atrocities in the 
Dobruja had appalled the stoutest hearts. The seat of 
Government had been transferred to Jassy, a few offi- 
cials had remained, but their loyalty was more than 
doubtful to what appeared a losing cause. The popula- 
tion of the city was like a flock of sheep without its shep- 



THE DISASTER IN RUMANIA 123 

herd and wandered aimlessly about, seeking for informa- 
tion and encouragement which no honest man could give. 
Orders had been posted broadcast, instructing the in- 
habitants to stay quietly in their homes. So far, the 
poorer people had obeyed and watched, with patient if 
puzzled resignation, the departure of the rich and priv- 
ileged in motor cars and trains. South of the town a 
battle was in progress, and bulletins from Presan ^ spoke 
of a great success ; the simple were hoping for a victory, 
which would save their hearths and homes. 

Throughout the war, a flag had waved over the Royal 
Palace, and, though the King and Queen had left, dur- 
ing these first days of Rumania's agony, it had remained 
unfurled, for the palace was a hospital and under Royal 
care. To anxious watchers in the street, this flag was a 
comfort and a sign ; it proved the presence of some occu- 
pants, who, if danger threatened, would surely be 
removed. One morning, early in December, the peo- 
ple walking past the palace saw that the flag had 
gone. 

The army in the south had been defeated and was in 
full retreat. Hundreds of wounded men and stragglers 
confirmed the rumours of disaster; they were its human 
symbols, their broken and dejected mien banished all 
optimistic doubts. 

An exodus ensued; an exodus as unpremeditated as 
it was unreasoning. The fugitives did not consider why 
they fled, nor whither they would go: they were un- 
nerved by months of strain and almost daily bombing: 
an uncontrollable impulse forced them to leave the 

1 Presan was one of Rumania's ablest generals ; he had commanded 
the Northern Army at the commencement of hostilities, and was en- 
trusted with the direction of the operations for the defence of Bucharest. 
After the retreat into Moldavia he became Chief of Staff to the King. 



124 OLD EUROPE'S SUICIDE 

stricken town. A motley crowd, on foot and horseback, 
in every sort of vehicle, in every stage of misery 
and despair, streamed past the lime trees of the 
Chaiissee Kisileff and surged up the Great North 
Road. 

The season was far advanced. Out of the north-east 
came an eager wind and snow began to fall, large flakes 
fell softly but persistently from a surcharged, leaden 
sky, and lay upon the country-side like a widespreading 
shroud; a shroud for many little children, their inno- 
cence had not availed to save them ; cunning and selfish- 
ness are better safeguards than youth and innocence in 
time of war. 

I caught up what might be called the rearguard of 
this lamentable procession two miles to the south of a 
little Wallachian town, which lay close to the frontier of 
Moldavia and General Alexieff's shortest line. Motor 
cars, country carts and wagons stood four abreast across 
the road in a long column stretching northwards, whose 
immobiUty impeded further progress, however slow; 
the gathering darkness and exhaustion had set a period 
to this tragic flight. 

On foot, I reached the Headquarters of Count Keller, 
the commander of a Russian Cavalry Corps ; the Gen- 
eral had just finished dinner when I entered, and, per- 
haps for this reason, his outlook on the situation was 
less gloomy than otherwise it might have been. Count 
Keller was not devoid of human feeling, the welter of 
suffering outside his lodging would have touched a heart 
of stone ; but, as a soldier, he was filled with indignation 
against the Rumanian Government, for having permitted 
thousands of civilians to use the only highway in this 
region, and thereby to block, for two whole days, the 



THE DISASTER IN RUMANIA 125 

forward movement of his corps. The obvious retort was 
that his presence there was useless: he had arrived two 
months too late. 

On the following- day, the refugees from Wallaehia 
crossed the Sereth into Moldavia, and found security be- 
hind a screen composed of Russian troops. About half 
a million Russian soldiers had arrived in the Northern 
Principality and more were yet to come. Wild, uncouth 
Cossacks swarmed in every village, their first thoughts 
plunder and the satisfaction of gross appetites; some 
tried to sell their splendid horses for alcohol in any 
form. 

The first act of the Rumanian tragedy was drawing 
to its close. A little Latin country had yielded to bribes 
and threats and had entered, under Russian auspices, 
into a European war. Now it lay crushed and broken, 
the victim of two invasions: one, by the enemy in the 
south ; the other, by Russians in the north. 

The "Western Powers were lavish in their sympathy; 
they had little else to give and were the helpless wit- 
nesses of the evil they had done. In France, a restless, 
ignorant optimism had conceived a selfish plan; Great 
Britain had endorsed it, and Russia, in the name of 
Allied interests, had pursued a traditional Russian pol- 
icy, which had been both sinister and obscure. 

"He that builds a fair house upon an ill seat, com- 
mitteth himself to prison." In 1912, the Great Powers, 
of those days, had laid the foundations of their policy 
in the Balkans. Ignorance, inertia, selfishness and greed 
had characterized their statecraft: an ill seat this on 
which to build, but one well fitted for a pyramid of 
errors. That pyramid was rising fast and one more 
block had just been added, an error as tragic as the rest. 



126 OLD EUROPE'S SUICIDE 

Though no fair house, it was to hold its master builders 
like a prison; for one among them, — Tsarist Russia, it 
was destined to fulfil its proper function — the function 
of a tomb. 



CHAPTER XII 

The Russian Revolution and the Russo-Rumanian 
Offensive — 1917 

By the middle of January, 1917, the front in Rumania 
had become stabilized on what was, in point of fact, Gen- 
eral Alexieff's shortest line. This line had its right 
near Dorna Vatra^ (the Russian left before Rumania 
intervened) and traversed the Carpathian foothills until 
it reached the Sereth Valley, north-east of the town of 
Foesani ; thence it followed the left bank of the river to 
its junction with the Danube close to Galatz. East of 
this latter place the front was vague and variable, the 
swampy region round the Danube's mouth being a ver- 
itable ''No Man's Land." 

Nearly a million Russian soldiers had, by this time, 
been sent into Moldavia; they were organized in thir- 
teen cavalry divisions and a dozen army corps. The 
Rumanian Army had been reduced by losses and disor- 
ganization to six weak divisions; these held a sector of 
the front about twenty miles in length. 

Winter weather and mutual exhaustion precluded the 
immediate continuation of hostilities, and the opposing 
armies faced each other under conditions of discomfort 
which could hardly have been worse. 

During this period of comparative calm, it was pos- 

1 Dorna Vatra Is a town in the Carpathians on the S.W. frontier of 
Buliovina. 

127 



128 OLD EUROPE'S SUICIDE 

sible to appreciate the situation both from an Allied and 
an enemy point of view. 

The Allies had, undoubtedly, lost prestige. Great 
Britain had forfeited the confidence which had been 
our most precious asset in the earlier stages of the war; 
the British Government was regarded by Rumanians as 
the tool of French and Russian diplomacy, and our warm- 
est partisans found little comfort in benevolent intentions 
which were never translated into deeds. The French 
burked criticism, to some extent, by an immense display 
of energy. Hundreds of officers and men were incor- 
porated in the Rumanian Army, who by their spirit and 
example did much to raise the morale of the troops. The 
Russians, to a greater degree tlian ever, inspired dis- 
trust and fear. The Germanophiles in Rumania had al- 
ways been Russophobes ; during this period they gained 
many new adherents, both in the army and the business 
class. 

Allied prestige, and more especially that of Great 
Britain, could have been restored by a decisive success 
in a direction which would have enabled Rumania to 
recommence hostilities, in the spring or summer, inde- 
pendently of Russia. That direction was obviously Con- 
stantinople, the key of the Near East; no other remedy 
for Rumania's plight was either practicable or just. 

The loss of Wallachia had deprived Rumania of four- 
fifths of her food supplies, almost all her petrol and her 
principal railway centres. Moldavia had to support, in 
addition to the normal population, thousands of refugees 
from Wallachia and, to a great extent, the Russian 
forces. So defective were the road and railway com- 
munications, that the supply services functioned only 
with the greatest difficulty while the troops remained at 



RUSSIAN REVOLUTION 129 

rest. To attempt to even utilize this region as an ad- 
vanced base for offensive operations was to invite defeat. 
Operations on a large scale for the recovery of Wallachia 
could only have been carried out by using the Danube 
as a supplementary line of communication ; to do so, it 
was essential for the Allies to be undisputed masters of 
the Black Sea, and this involved a reinforcement of the 
Russian Fleet. While the Dardanelles remained in 
enemy hands, the Black Sea was as much German and 
Turkish as it was Russian ; naval engagements were of 
rare occurrence and invariably indecisive. 

Speculation was busy at Rumanian Headquarters as to 
the invaders' future course of action. If further con- 
quests were envisaged, their position on the Danube con- 
ferred on them the power of turning the left flank of 
the Sereth line by the occupation of Galatz, against 
which place their communications by rail and river 
would have made possible the rapid concentration of 
numerically superior forces. Once in possession of 
Galatz, the invasion of Bessarabia could have been un- 
dertaken, since the establishment of an Allied front on 
the line of the River Pruth ^ would have been fore- 
stalled. 

The Central Empires, however, made no serious effort 
to capture Galatz ; they appeared to be content with 
Braila and complete control of the Danube Valley be- 
tween that port and the Iron Gate. From a strategical 
point of view their position was good. An immense 
force of Russians was immobilized in Moldavia and held 
there by the threat to Odessa; this force could only be 
freed for offensive operations by a complete reversal of 
Allied policy in the Near East, a contingency not likely 

1 The River Pruth defines part of the frontier between Rumania and 
Bessarabia and enters the Danube at Galatz. 



130 OLD EUROPE'S SUICIDE 

to occur. In the meantime, the stocks of corn in Walla- 
chia were being transferred to Germany and restorative 
measures were being taken in the oil fields, where the 
machinery and plant had been destroyed in wholesale 
fashion during the retreat. 

Famine was approaching in Moldavia and typhus was 
raging in the towns and countryside, when the Allies 
convened a conference at Petrograd to determine their 
future plans. 

General Gourko had replaced General Alexieff as 
Chief of the Russian Staff, owing to the illness of the 
latter. At the outset of the Conference, Russia's prin- 
cipal military delegate submitted an appreciation of the 
military situation which, in so far as it concerned Ru- 
mania, either displayed an inexcusable ignorance of the 
facts or was intentionally false. He described new rail- 
way lines in Bessarabia as approaching completion, 
whose construction could not be commenced before the 
spring was far enough advanced to melt the ice and 
snow ; on such premises as these he based a plan of oper- 
ations, which even Russian Generals on the spot described 
as suicide. The other Allied representatives listened 
with grateful ears; for them, a Russo-Rumanian offen- 
sive in the spring had many great advantages — it would 
relieve the pressure on the Western front and help 
Cadorna on the Carso. They argued that if the General 
Staff in Petrograd thought this offensive could be made, 
it was the best solution of the problem, and all that re- 
mained for them to do was to arrange for liberal supplies 
of war material and guns. 

It is difficult to believe that the Government of the 
Czar, had it survived, would have permitted this offen- 
sive to take place; a few ambitious Generals may have 



RUSSIAN REVOLUTION 131 

been in favour of it, but the rulers of Russia bad real- 
ized that autocracies which made war on the Central 
Empires, were undermining the last barrier against the 
advancing flood of democratic sentiment, and were, in 
fact, cutting their own throats. Both at the Imperial 
Court and in Government circles, German influence was 
gaining ground, and the Russian people as a whole were 
profoundly pessimistic. Germany was considered irre- 
sistible, officers of high rank admitted that if Mackensen 
invaded Bessarabia, salvation could be found only in 
retreat. They talked of a retirement to the Volga even, 
and the Rumanians listened with dismay. 

In all human probability, the proposals for an offen- 
sive made to the Conference at Petrograd were intended 
to deceive the Western Allies, and to gain time for the 
final liquidation of Rumania, Already the Russian Gov- 
ernment controlled Rumania's supplies of ammunition,^ 
end, by an adroit interpretation of Articles VIII and 
IX 2 of the Military Convention, the Rumanian Army 
had, for all practical purposes, been brought under the 
Russian High Command, The next step was to assume 
control of the Rumanian civil administration. On the 
pretext that the confusion and congestion on the Moldav- 
ian railway system would preclude offensive operations, 
the Russian General Staff suggested a wholesale evacua- 
tion of Rumanian elements from Moldavia into Russian 
territory. This evacuation was to include the Govern- 
ment, the civil population, and all military units not 
actually on the front. Apart from its total impractica- 

1 About eo per cent, of the supplies of ammunition sent by the West- 
ern Powers to Rumania were lost or stolen in transit through Russia. 

2 These Articles prescribed the position of the King of Rumania as 
Commander-in-Chief of all forces in Rumanian territory. After the 
retreat Into Moldavia, advantage was taken of the somewhat inexplicit 
character of these Articles and the preponderance of Russian troops to 
place King Ferdinand under the orders of the Czar, 



132 OLD EUROPE'S SUICIDE 

bility with the communications available, the object of 
this suggestion was sufficiently clear — it was the con- 
version of Moldavia into a Russian colony. When that 
had been accomplished, a separate peace could be con- 
cluded between Russia and the Central Empires, and 
the prophecy of Baron von der Busche ^ would have 
been amply verified. 

During the proceedings of the Conference there had 
been much talk of revolution, but few of the Allied rep- 
resentatives believed in it. Society in Petrograd scoffed 
at the idea of a political upheaval, it was held to be im- 
possible while the lower classes were so prosperous and 
comparatively well fed. At the end of February the 
Conference broke up, the British, French and Italian 
delegates left by the Murmansk route, convinced that, at 
last, the Russian "steam roller" was going to advance. 

A few days later the Revolution began. The soldiers 
joined the people. Their motives for so doing were nat- 
ural and logical, they should have been a lesson to those 
who were next to try to rule in Russia, if vanity and 
false ideas had not conspired to make Kerensky the pup- 
pet of occidental plans. Many senior generals supported 
the Revolution. Their motives were variously ascribed 
to patriotism and ambition — when generals and soldiers 
act alike a distinction must be drawn. 

Western democracies gave an enthusiastic reception 
to the new order in Russia — so much so that our Am- 
bassador in Petrograd, of all men the most innocent 
and above suspicion, was accused of complicity in the 
revolutionary plot. Liberals spoke of the awakening of 
Russia, and Xhey were absolutely right. It was, indeed, 
an awakening of oppressed, exploited people, and was 

1 The former German Minister to Bucharest. 



RUSSIAN REVOLUTION 133 

thorough, abrupt and rude. Officials in Paris and Lon- 
don were not without misgivings, but they perceived 
some advantages in the situation — a central soviet at 
Petrograd, or even a Republic, ruled by idealists, would 
be a more docile instrument than the Government of the 
Czar. Superficially, they were right. This shortsighted 
view was justified by events during the first four months 
of confusion and excitement. Fundamentally, they 
wrong. They had misjudged the Revolution, and had 
not recognized that lassitude and exasperation pervaded 
the Russian armies, and that men in this frame of mind 
were better left alone. 

The fate of Rumania had trembled in the balance 
when left to the tender mercies of the men who ruled in 
Russia under the old regime. The Revolution had 
brought a chance of respite, and admitted a ray of hope. 
Great Britain and France could have helped the Ru- 
manian people by using their influence to insist on strict 
adherence to the terms of the Military Convention. If 
this had been done, and if patience and foresight had 
been exercised, the natural desire of the Army and the 
Government, to take an active part in the reconquest 
of their territory, might have been gratified on sane 
strategic lines. The Rumanian Army might have been 
reorganized and re-equipped, and then could have played 
a useful part in a concerted Allied plan. 

This was not to be. The Allied plan was fixed and 
immutable. Though everything had changed in Russia, 
this plan was the direct outcome of Gourko's fantasies: 
it consisted in a gigantic offensive operation, without 
adequate communications and with ill-equipped armies, 
on more than one hundred miles of front. The Ru- 
manian forces were to be wedged between two Russian 



134 OLD EUROPE'S SUICIDE 

armies and thus deprived of the power of independent 
movement, while their role was limited to that of an in- 
significant fraction of an incoherent mass. Ignorance 
and optimism ruled the Allied Councils; they were to 
be as fatal to Rumanian interests as Russian guile and 
greed. 

I returned to Jassy from Petrograd towards the mid- 
dle of March. The Russian forces in Moldavia had 
caught the revolutionary infection; their Commander- 
in-Chief, a Russian prince, had found prudence to be 
the better part of valour and assisted at committee meet- 
ings wearing a red cockade. Revolution softens the man- 
ners and customs of even the most violent natures. 
Officers, who a few months before had kicked their sol- 
diers in the streets for not saluting, now, when they got 
a rare salute, returned it with gratitude. 

The Rumanian peasants remained faithful to their 
King and Government. They had suffered much, but 
their pride of race and native sense prevented them 
from flattering the hated intruders by imitating Rus- 
sian methods for the redress of wrongs. In Jassy, some 
Socialists who had been arrested were liberated by their 
friends: these may have included some Rumanians, but 
their number was not considerable and their activities 
were not a source of danger to the commonwealth, which 
was threatened only from outside. 

On the front an extraordinary situation had arisen. 
Fraternization between the opposing armies was general 
and unrestrained, except on the Rumanian sector. The 
Russian soldiers were in regular correspondence with 
their Austrian and German adversaries, by means of 
post-boxes placed between the lines and verbal inter- 
course. Men, whose respective Governments were still 



RUSSIAN REVOLUTION 135 

at war, fished in the waters of the Sereth. "Angling is 
somewhat like poetry, men are to be born so." No 
doubt these anglers thought, with Isaac "Walton, that 
they were brothers of the angle. Barbed wire was put 
to peaceful uses, entanglements were used as drying 
lines and were covered with fluttering shirts. The revo- 
lution had accomplished something; it had given some 
very dirty soldiers the time to wash their clothes, 

A unique opportunity for propaganda had presented 
itself. The Germans utilized it to circulate letters in- 
viting the Russian and Rumanian soldiers to desert their 
"real enemies" — France and England. These appeals 
had no effect. The Russians received them philosoph- 
ically ; they had, already, got a sort of peace and, in the 
front-line trenches, a sufficiency of food. The Ruman- 
ians had other reasons for rejecting such advice. Peace 
with invaders had no meaning for them, their only 
friends were France and England. The peasants real- 
ized instinctively that Russia was a foe. 

In their impatience for offensive action, the Allies 
failed to grasp some essential features of the situation, 
which might have been turned to good account. The 
Russian armies were in a state of convalescence after 
the first fever of the revolution, the majority of the men 
were inert, if not contented, and no longer indulged in 
deeds of violence ; they were still influenced by the revo- 
lutionary spirit, but not in a rabid sense. They were a 
source of contagion to the enemy but, relatively, harm- 
less to themselves. Fraternalization on the Rumanian 
front was more hurtful to the Central Empires than to 
the Allies. The Austro-Hungarians were war-weary and 
demoralized; inactivity had encouraged hopes of peace 
and, after close on three years of war, such hopes die 



136 OLD EUROPE'S SUICIDE 

hard. Even the Germans were disaffected, their iron 
discipline had grown more lax. During one of my visits 
to the Russian trenches, a German private brought a 
message from his comrades, advising the "Soldiers' Com- 
mittee" to cease passing convoys along a certain road, 
because "our pigs of officers may make us shoot." 

Disintegrating forces were at work among the enemy 
troops ; they were the product of social and political con- 
ditions and, whatever might be their later repercussion, 
from an immediate and practical point of view, they were 
more powerful aids to victory for the Allies than any 
offensive on this front. A premature Russo-Rumanian 
offensive, with unwilling Russian soldiers, could have 
but one effect — its futility was evident to the humblest 
combatants in the opposing ranks; it could only serve 
to rally doubters and, thereby, postpone another revo- 
lution. That revolution was inevitable: it might have 
been precipitated by an intelligent adaptation of Allied 
policy to facts. 

So far as could be seen, the Allies had no policy at 
this period. Statesmen no longer ruled. The German 
system had been followed by making the General Staffs 
omnipotent. To men obsessed by one single facet of a 
many-sided problem, the Russian Revolution was an in- 
cident without significance beyond its bearing on the 
Western Front; for them the Russian armies were ma- 
chines, whose functions had undergone no change as the 
result of revolution. They regarded an offensive on the 
Eastern Front as a subsidiary operation, which would 
relieve the pressure in the West: that was the aim and 
object of their strategy, and everything was subordinated 
to the achievement of that end. 

With very few exceptions, the Russian Generals who 



RUSSIAN REVOLUTION 137 

had retained commands, after the abdication of the 
Czar, favoured the Allied plan ; it appealed not only to 
their personal ambition but also to a conviction, which 
they shared with many others, that further slaughter 
would allay political unrest. The most influential mem- 
ber of the new Russian Government was Kerensky, an 
idealist whose support for any enterprise could be se- 
cured by flattering his vanity, which, as with many 
democratic leaders, had assumed the proportions of dis- 
ease. The motives of this man were comparatively dis- 
interested, but he was young and inexperienced. He 
became the most ardent advocate of the offensive plan 
and turned himself into a recruiting sergeant instead of 
directing the affairs of State. Brains and calm judg- 
ment are seldom used in war. It is much easier to enrol 
thousands of simple men to serve in what the Russians 
called ** Battalions of Death" than it is to find one man 
possessed of sense. Kerensky raised many such battal- 
ions and, to do him justice, he did not deceive the vic- 
tims of his eloquence more completely than himself. 

In Rumania hope alternated with despair in regard to 
future operations; the former was spasmodic and in- 
spired by the French Military Mission, the latter was 
bound to invade any reflective mind. Certain Rumanian 
Generals were frankly optimistic in regard to the recon- 
quest of Wallachia, others professed to be so to gain 
the approval of the French. With either of these two 
types discussion was impossible ; it would have been cruel 
to rob them of any source of consolation by insisting on 
the truth. 

General Ragosa, who commanded the 2nd Russian 
Army, expressed himself emphatically against a renewal 
of offensive tactics by Russian troops, before they had 



138 OLD EUROPE'S SUICIDE 

been equipped on the same scale as other armies. He 
declared that Brusiloff's much advertised offensives had 
been conducted without due preparaiion or regard for 
loss of life, and that though that general had gained 
much personal glory, he had broken the spirit of his 
men. The attitude of the rank and tile more than con- 
firmed this view ; the revolutionary soldiers lacked neither 
patriotism nor courage, but they had come to suspect and 
hate the blundering, ruthless generals who held their 
lives so cheap. They knew that on the Western Front 
slaughter was mitigated by mechanical devices, whereas 
they were regarded as mere cannon fodder and of less 
value than their transport mules. When French and 
British officers urged them to make further sacrifices, 
they put a searching question: "Do your soldiers pull 
down barbed wire entanglements with their bare hands ? ' ' 
Such questions were disconcerting to fervent foreign 
propagandists, and did not stimulate their curiosity to 
hear other unpleasant truths. In spite of the fact that 
"Soldiers' Committees" had been established in almost 
every unit, and were largely, though not completely, 
representative, these spokesmen of a mass of inarticulate 
opinion were neglected by the partisans of immediate 
offensive action, who seemed to have forgotten that the 
Russian Revolution had ever taken place. 

Once again, the Western Powers were asking the 
armies on the Eastern Front to do what their own armies 
would not have been allowed to do. Their motives were 
selfish and their propaganda false: when ignorance is 
wilful it becomes immoral, when combined with medioc- 
rity of mind, it fails to recognize the natural limitations 
of a situation and has a boomerang effect. Wise men, 
however immoral they may be, know where to stop ; the 



RUSSIAN REVOLUTION 139 

stupid, when unrestrained by fear or scruples, push 
blindly on and never seek enlightenment, they cause 
more suffering by their folly than the most cruel tyrants 
by their vice. 

At the beginning of July the offensive began; by 
some it was called the ' ' French ' ' offensive, and the name 
was not inapt. It came as a surprise to the enemy Army 
Commanders, who had not expected this solution of a 
problem whose political aspects were causing them grave 
concern. The Austro-Hungarian and German soldiers 
could still be counted on to retaliate if attacked; this 
sudden onslaught put an end to the fraternalization be- 
tween the armies and could be dealt with easily by even 
an inferior number of well-led and well-organized 
troops. 

The history of these ill-fated operations is too well 
known to need recapitulation. By the end of July the 
Russo-Rumanian offensive had collapsed completely. 
The Russian forces were everywhere in retreat, the Ru- 
manians, after making a twelve-mile advance and fight- 
ing with great gallantry and determination, were forced 
to withdraw to the line from which they had started, 
owing to the retirement of the Russian armies on both 
their flanks. 

A total misconception of the internal situation in 
Russia had brought about a military disaster of un- 
precedented magnitude. The Russian armies had ceased 
to exist as fighting forces, the soldiers had flung away 
their arms and offered no opposition to invasion, all 
Western Russia was at the mercy of the Germans, who 
had only to advance. 

"With the disappearance of all military cohesion, the 
political situation in Russia became desperate. The 



140 OLD EUROPE'S SUICIDE 

dumb driven herd had, in the end, stampeded and put 
the herdsmen in a fearful quandary, from which there 
was no escape. Millions of men had demobilized them- 
selves and roved about the country or poured into the 
towns; they had been brutalized by three years of war 
and showed it by their deeds. Six months before the 
Russian people had lost confidence in themselves. AVith 
a new form of Government new hope had come, but now 
that hope was dashed. Russian Democracy had been 
tried and failed. Kerensky and his fellows had de- 
stroyed an evil system, but had put nothing but rhetoric 
in its place. They had convinced themselves that they 
were Russia's saviours, and had not realized that revolu- 
tions which are caused by war have but one object — a 
return to peace. They might have saved the situation 
by a temporizing policy; far greater men have not dis- 
dained inaction based on calculation, and Russia's his- 
tory had shown that in her wide and distant spaces lay 
her most sure defence. Instead, the leaders of the Revo- 
lution, having no Russian policy, had embarked on an 
enterprise which every thinking Russian knew was fore- 
doomed to failure ; thereby they had destroyed the trust 
of the people in their Western Allies, who had become 
objects of resentment, for having urged the last offen- 
sive without regard for ways and means. 

To distracted soldiers, workmen and peasants in all 
parts of Russia, the Bolshevist doctrine made a strong 
appeal ; it promised not only peace, but a form of self- 
government, and these leaderless, misgoverned men 
snatched eagerly at the prospect. Lenine and Trotsky 
had long perceived the real need of the Russian people, 
their international theories effaced any sentiment of loy- 
alty to the Allies, and, after sweeping away the last 



RUSSIAN REVOLUTION 141 

vestiges of Kerensky's Government, they asked Germany 
for an armistice. 

In Southern Moldavia, the Rumanians still held their 
ground, covering the crossings of the Sereth. They 
were completely isolated — on one side anarchy, on the 
other a ring of steel. The situation of this dismembered 
country was tragic and appalling; in the words of the 
Prophet Isaiah, Rumania was "as the small dust of the 
balance." Her fate was linked with that of Russia, she 
was small dust indeed, compared to that ponderous mass. 

The impatience of the Western Powers had exposed 
Rumania to the machinations of a haughty, overbearing 
ally and an enemy in disguise. From these the Revolu- 
tion had delivered her, but only in the hour of defeat 
and on the eve of irretrievable disaster. She was to 
drain the cup of bitterness down to its very dregs, and, 
at the bidding of the Bolshevists, to conclude a separate 
peace. 

It has been said that the Bolshevists betrayed Ru- 
mania. This accusation is unfounded and unjust. The 
Bolshevists were the outcome of a pernicious system, 
for which the Revolution had found no remedy; 
Rumania had undoubtedly been betrayed, but the be- 
trayal was not Lenine's work. AVhen he assumed con- 
trol in Russia, Rumania's plight was hopeless, and, at 
least, he left her what she might have lost — the status of 
an Independent State. 

The Alliance had lost a limb which spread across two 
Continents and bestrode the Eastern world. Its strength 
had been exaggerated, but it had rendered priceless 
services at the outset of the war. At last it had broken 
down from overwork, directed by men who had neither 
understood its functions nor realized that it was some- 



142 OLD EUROPE'S SUICIDE 

thing human, though different from the rest. The Rus- 
sian people had not changed with a change of Govern- 
ment, but the same men were abused as traitors under 
Lenine, wlio had been praised as patriots and heroes 
when subjects of the Czar. 

The amputation had been self-inflicted, and the limb 
was left to rot. 



CHAPTER XIII 
A Midnight Mass 

On Easter Eve, it is the practice of the Orthodox 
Greek Church to hold a Special Vigil, which terminates 
at midnight on Holy Saturday. In the year 1917 this 
vigil had unusual significance for the Rumanian people, 
who were passing through a time of tribulation, the 
words ''Kyrie Eleison"^ were in every heart, and even 
the irreligious sought the solace of Mother Church. 

I had been with the Armies, and had returned to 
J assy late on Easter Saturday. My way had lain 
through almost deserted country, with here and there a 
sparsely populated village, whose tolling church bells 
called the peasants to their prayers. 

The Moldavian capital was densely crowded. Since 
early in the evening, a great concourse had been assem- 
bling in the Cathedral Square. At the time of my ar- 
rival, thousands of patient waiting people stood there, 
a sea of faces blanched in the moonlight, pinched by 
want and cold. Many Russian soldiers were sharing in 
this outer vigil. Just before midnight, after the King 
and Queen had entered the Cathedral, some of them 
broke through the cordon of Rumanian troops and tried 
to force an entrance. They also wished to worship in 
accordance with the ritual of their church, but were held 

1 "Kyrie Eleison," the Greek for "Lord have mercy on us," described 
by Cardinal Wiseman as "that cry for mercy which Is to be found in 
every liturgy of East and West." 

143 



144 OLD EUROPE'S SUICIDE 

back and roughly handled. There was not room for all 
who wished to enter in, and these were soldiers of the 
Revolution wearing the red cockade. One of them, quite 
a boy in years, fell prostrate and inarticulate on the 
steps, and was permitted to remain. 

The vigil ended shortly after midnight, and at its 
close the Archbishop led a procession to the precincts, 
where massed bands played, rockets soared high in 
Heaven, and true believers kissed each other, saying: 
"Christ is risen." 

Once more we entered the Cathedral, and what I have 
called a Midnight Mass or Liturgy was celebrated. The 
term may well be a misnomer. There may not have 
been a mystical destruction, but there were prayers of 
penitence and praise, of supplication and thanksgiving, 
and these we are taught are the four ends of the sacrifice 
of the Mass. 

Jassy Cathedral is not one of those vast Gothic struc- 
tures, whose symmetry and gorgeous decoration serve as 
memorials of the inspired human efforts which graced a 
more religious age. It is a plain unostentatious building 
of no great size. This night, however, it appeared trans- 
formed; height, length and breadth assumed immense, 
mj^sterious proportions — the chancel blazed with light, 
all other parts of the interior of the building were 
wrapped in obscurity, side chapels loomed like cavern- 
ous recesses, the nave was tilled with flickering shadows, 
its vault resembled a dark firmament above a tense ex- 
pectant multitude, a seemingly innumerable host, stretch- 
ing far back in serried lines and ever deepening gloom. 

Rumanian soldiers predominated in the congregation, 
the radiance from the altar was reflected on swart, fierce 
faces, and shone in countless eyes. Queen Mary, sur- 



A MIDNIGHT MASS 145 

rounded by her ladies, stood near the centre of the 
transept, a group of white-clad figures gleaming softly 
against the grey background. The King and his second 
son occupied two thrones on the south side of the chancel, 
facing them were the representatives of seven Allied 
States. 

At the commencement of the service the music was 
subdued, treble and alto voices recited canticles and 
chanted antiphons. Sometimes a clear soprano rang out 
alone. I could not understand the words, but one of the 
melodies recalled an air by Handel, a touching declara- 
tion of faith triumphant, a woman's voice proclaiming 
that her Redeemer lives. Later, the character of the 
music changed. From a gallery at the Cathedral 's west- 
ern end, a choir of men thundered out p^ans of rejoicing, 
which rose in shattering crescendos, and surged up to 
the altar in waves of sonorous sound. 

The climax of the ceremony was reached when the 
Archbishop left the altar steps and knelt before the 
King. The old Primate's work was done. This learned 
monk and priest of God was a Rumanian citizen. As 
such, he surrendered to his temporal sovereign the sym- 
bol of all Christendom, and his own most sacred charge. 
King Ferdinand received it reverently, and a Catholic 
Hohenzollern Prince stood as the Head of Church and 
State holding a jewelled cross. 

An unexpected movement followed. Most of the for- 
eign diplomats and soldiers pressed round the Royal 
throne, and paid homage to both spiritual and temporal 
power by kissing first the crucifix and then the Mon- 
arch's hand. 

This gesture was neither premeditated nor prompted 
by a spirit of Erastianism. It was the act of men under 



146 OLD EUROPE'S SUICIDE 

the influence of deep emotion. Something had touched 
their hearts; something, perhaps, which brought back 
memories of boyhood, when belief was ready, and young 
imaginations glowed, and youth was vowed to noble 
needs ; something which stirred feelings numbed by con- 
tact with worldliness and cruelty on life's rough way; 
something still fragrant and redolent of innocence, 
which they had lost long since and found awhile. 

To the peasant soldiers, the music, the incense and 
the vestments combined to make a beatific vision, a 
light to those who walked in darkness, and whose simple 
faith was strong and real. They believed implicitly in 
the second advent of a man who had been, and would 
be again — ^Wonderful, a Counsellor, a Good Shepherd, 
and a Prince of Peace. They had known sorrow and 
defeat, the enemy was in their land, famine and pes- 
tilence were ravaging their homes, but they were sol- 
diers of the Cross and undismayed. More battles would 
be fought, battles without the pomp and circumstance of 
those in theatres less remote. The last heroic stand at 
Marasesti ^ would be made by humble men, who, this 
night throughout Moldavia, were met together for a fes- 
tival of their Church, not to sing songs of lamentation, 
but to cry Hallelujah and Hosanna, to tell the joyful 
tidings — "Christ is risen." 

1 Marasesti is a village in the Sereth Valley, where six Rumanian 
divisions repelled repeated assaults by numerically superior German and 
Austro-Hungarian forces under Field-Marshal Mackensen. The Ru- 
manians fought unsupported and caused 100,000 casualties in the enemy 
ranks. They held their positions until the signature of peace at Buchar- 
est. 



CHAPTER XIV 

''Westerners" and "Easterners" 

For many years before the "Great World War," the 
German Army had been the most formidable fighting 
machine in existence. It had filled professional soldiers 
in all countries with envy and admiration, as the su- 
preme expression of a warlike and disciplined race. 

When the war began the Allied Armies were unpre- 
pared, and were unable to withstand an offensive which 
was a triumph of scientific organization and almost 
achieved complete success. The partial success of this 
first German offensive had two important results: it 
carried the war on the Western Front into French and 
Belgian territory, and more than confirmed the worst 
fears of Allied military experts as to the efiiciency of the 
German Army. 

After the Battle of the Marne, a mood of extravagant 
optimism prevailed. One British general prophesied in 
September, 1914, that by the end of March, 1915, the 
Russians would be on the Oder and the French and 
British on the Rhine. With the advent of trench war- 
fare on the Western Front and the retreat of the Rus- 
sians in East Prussia and Poland, the outlook became 
less rosy, and the Allies settled down to a form of war 
which was to last, with slight variations, until the armis- 
tice. 

Generally speaking, this form of war involved the 
subordination of Policy to Grand Tactics. Policy had 

147 



148 OLD EUROPE'S SUICIDE 

for its object the protection of vital interests, more 
especially in the East, and aimed at securing the co-oper- 
ation of neutral States with a view to strengthening the 
Alliance. Grand Tactics demanded the sacrifice of every 
consideration to ensuring victory on the Western Front. 
The failure of the expedition to the Dardanelles put 
statesmen, for a time at least, at the mercy of profes- 
sional soldiers, of whom the vast majority, both French 
and British, were so-called "Westerners." 

The ideas of these men were simple. If pursued to 
their logical conclusion they would have required the 
concentration of all Allied forces (including Serbs and 
Russians) somewhere in France and Flanders. The 
more rabid Westerners did desire this, as they honestly 
believed that on their front there was no middle course 
between a decisive victory and a crushing defeat. Others 
admitted a Russian, and later an Italian Front with its 
appendage at Salonika, but, in their eyes, the only ob- 
ject of these two fronts was to hold as many enemy 
troops as possible and facilitate a victory in the West. 
That victory was to be preceded by a war of attrition, 
which would culminate in a final battle on classic lines 
— the infantry and artillery would make a gap through 
which massed cavalry would pour. 

The French Staff was characteristically optimistic, 
the British less so. Many senior British officers had a 
profound respect for the German Military System, it 
was to them the embodiment of excellence from every 
point of view, and had to be imitated before it could be 
beaten. 

In the autumn of 1915, the era of Allied counter- 
offensives began. The slaughter on both sides was im- 
mense, but no appreciable results were achieved. While 



"WESTERNERS" AND ''EASTERNERS" 149 

these operations were being carried out, Bulgaria joined 
the Central Empires, the greater part of Servia and Al- 
bania was over-run, and, according to an official report 
on the operations against the Dardanelles, "the flow of 
munitions and drafts fell away." 

Throughout the whole of 1916, the war of attrition 
was waged in deadly earnest and exacted a ghastly toll. 
By the end of the year no decision had been reached on 
the three main fronts, but the richest part of Rumania 
had fallen into the hands of the enemy. 

Public opinion in both France and Great Britain 
seemed to approve the methods of the Westerners. The 
French naturally desired above everything to drive the 
invaders out of France, and the British people had be- 
come resigned to a war of workshops, which was lucra- 
tive to those who stayed at home. 

From a purely military point of view, the attitude of 
the Westerners was comprehensible. The Western Front 
was close to the Allied bases of supply, it had good com- 
munications, the climate was healthy, on this front the 
Germans were encountered, and they formed the back- 
bone of the hostile combination. Undoubted^ a victory 
in the West was the ideal way to win the war. No one 
disputed that, but at the end of 1916 that victory was 
still remote. Germany's position on the Western Front 
was very strong, her army was homogeneous, her com- 
munications were superior to ours, and her recent con- 
quests in the East had mitigated the effects of two years 
of blockade. 

Since September, 1914, both sets of belligerents had 
made offensives, but these had failed, though in each 
case an initial success had raised the highest hopes. 
Stupendous preparations had been made, artillery had 



150 OLD EUROPE'S SUICIDE 

been employed on an unpreceaented scale, lives had 
been sacrificed ruthlessly, but, invariably, the forward 
movement had been arrested, had ebbed a little and im- 
mobility had ensued. Some law appeared to operate in 
this most modern form of warfare. Killing without 
manoeuvre had become an exact science, but battles are 
not merely battues, the armies must advance, and this 
they could not do — their mass and the enormous assem- 
blage of destructive appliances, necessar}^ for the pre- 
liminary process of annihilation, produced a congestion 
which brought the best organized offensive to a stand- 
still. In such circumstances it seemed that final 
victory might be postponed for months and even 
years. 

In 1917. The Central Empires held the land 
routes of South-Eastern Europe and Turkey was their 
vassal State, whereas the Allies disposed of precarious 
sea communications, which linked them with no more 
than the periphery of the Ottoman Empire and the 
Balkans at three widely separated points. In these 
regions the populations were being Germanized, inev- 
itably and in spite of themselves. The Germans were 
on the spot, they might be arrogant and unsympathetic, 
but they were efficient, and sufl^ering, unsophisticated 
people could justifiably argue that these intruders were 
better as friends than enemies, and that it paid to be on 
their side. To neglect this situation, until we had won 
a victory in the West, exposed the Allies to the risk of 
letting German influence become predominant through- 
out the Middle East. For the British Empire such a 
state of affairs would have spelled disaster; after untold 
sacrifices in the Allied cause. Great Britain would have 
lost the war. 



''WESTERNERS" AND "EASTERNERS" 151 

These weighty considerations had influenced certain 
British statesmen ever since the intervention of Turkey 
on the side of the Central Empires, but their plans had 
been frustrated by official inertia and mismanagement. 
At last, a serious effort was made to restore our pres- 
tige in the East by operations in the direction of Pales- 
tine and in Mesopotamia. These operations were against 
the same enemy and were carried out almost exclusively 
by British forces, but were independent of each other 
and not part of a concerted plan. The British War 
Office had undertaken the supply and maintenance of 
three "side-shows" (including Salonika), but had 
neither the time nor the inclination to prepare a scheme 
for the co-ordination of operations in the Eastern thea- 
tres. Perhaps it was feared that such a scheme would 
involve the dispatch of reinforcements. 

The Eastern situation demanded, in the first place, 
statesmanship. A military policy was needed which, 
while recognizing the preponderating importance of 
securing the Western Front, would aim at bringing pres- 
sure to bear on every part of the enemy combination; 
which would not be content with local successes, but 
would attack Pan-Germanism, the real menace to the 
British Empire, where its activities were centred ; which 
would strike at Germany through her Near Eastern 
allies, complete the circle of blockade on land and re- 
trieve the sources of supply which had been taken from 
Rumania. 

Military operations alone would not suffice ; the co- 
operation of the navy was essential to reduce the risks 
from submarines which infested the Eastern Mediter- 
ranean. The shipping problem presented many diffi- 
culties. These could be overcome only by Governmental 



152 OLD EUROPE'S SUICIDE 

action based on policj^ If dealt with by subordinate 
officials, the distribution of available tonnage would fol- 
low the line of least resistance in the form of short trips 
to France. 

If the broad lines of an Eastern policy had been laid 
down and insisted on by the Allied Governments, a 
plan could have been put into execution which, while 
offensive operations were in progress in Mesopotamia, 
Palestine and Macedonia, would have directed against 
the heart of the Ottoman Empire a strategic reserve, 
concentrated with that objective in view at one or more 
of the Eastern Mediterranean ports. The force required 
would not have been considerable. The Turkish and 
Bulgarian armies were held on three widely separated 
fronts, leaving weak and scattered garrisons in Thrace 
for the protection of the Dardanelles. 

The difficulties were many, but the stakes were big. 
The fall of Constantinople would have revolutionized 
the Near Eastern situation. It would have forced Tur- 
key to make a separate peace, and would, thereby, have 
freed a large proportion of our forces in Palestine and 
Macedonia for employment in other theatres. It would 
have had an immediate effect in Bulgaria, where the re- 
sentment against Germany, on account of the partition- 
ing of the Dobrudja, was bitter and widespread. It 
would have opened up communications by sea with the 
Rumanian and Russian armies in Moldavia, and made it 
possible to maintain and quicken the Southern Russian 
front. An opportunity would have presented itself for 
settling the Macedonian question on its merits, the West- 
em Powers would have been the arbiters, and their 
decisions would have been respected as those of all- 
powerful allies or potential conquerors. A just settle- 



"WESTERNERS" AND "EASTERNERS" 153 

ment of this question could not have failed to secure a 
separate peace with Bulgaria. 

Any Balkan settlement, which fulfilled our treaty and 
moral obligations to Rumania and Servia respectively, 
involved the partial dismemberment of Austria-Hun- 
gary. An invasion of the Eastern and South- Western 
provinces of the Dual Monarchy was the natural corol- 
lary of an Eastern military policy. This invasion could 
have been effected by national armies advancing towards 
their ethnological frontiers. The Rumanians, after the 
reconquest of Wallachia, could have operated in Transyl- 
vania and along the Danube Valley towards the Banat. 
The Serbs in Bosnia and Herzegovina towards the Dal- 
matian Coast. In all these provinces the popula- 
tions were awaiting with impatience the arrival of the 
Allies to throw off the hated yoke of Austria-Hun- 
gary. 

Operations of this nature would have had a 
repercussion in Croatia and Bohemia, where the inhab- 
itants were disaffected and ready to revolt. Their atti- 
tude would have facilitated an extension of the invasion 
in the direction of Trieste. The occupation of Trieste 
would have completed the encirclement of German Aus- 
tria and Germany. The German Western front would 
have been turned strategically, policy and strategy, work- 
ing in harmony, could have undertaken the task of iso- 
lating Prussia, the centre of militarism and the birth- 
place of Pan-Germanism. Munich and Dresden are 
closer to Trieste than to any point in France or Flanders. 

Such, in brief outline, was an Eastern military policy 
which had been submitted repeatedly since the early 
stages of the war. It was first proposed as a comple- 
ment to the operations on the Western and Eastern 



154 OLD EUROPE'S SUICIDE 

fronts. With the intervention of Italy, the possibility 
of its extension towards Croatia and Istria was per. 
ceived. At the beginning of 1917 it did not involve the 
detachment of many additional divisions from other 
theatres. The aggregate casualties in one of the big 
offensives would have more than met requirements. This 
detachment could have been justified on strategical 
grounds, since it would have forced the enemy to con- 
form to at least an equal extent. It was an attempt to 
harmonize stategy with policy, and on the principle of 
solvitur amhtdando to deal, during the progress of the 
war, with a mass of vexed racial problems which, during 
an armistice or in time of peace, are surrounded by 
intrigue. 

The advocates of an Eastern policy were described 
as "Easterners," a term which was susceptible of vari- 
ous interpretations. It meant, at best, a visionary, at 
worst, a traitor, according to the degree of indignation 
aroused in "Westerners." 

Notwithstanding the failure of their previous efforts, 
the "Westerners" still claimed in 1917 that a decisive 
victory could and would be won on the Western front, 
if the Russo-Rumanian offensive came up to expecta- 
tions. They had organized the British nation for a spe- 
cial form of war. Thanks to a highly developed Intel- 
ligence Department, they knew exactly what they had to 
deal with. Hundreds of able-bodied officers had worked 
with all the ardour of stamp collectors at identifying 
enemy units, and had produced catalogues which in the 
judgment of archivists Avere impeccable, though at the 
time of issue they may have been out of date. The 
French Armies were commanded by the hero of Verdun,^ 
and were full of the offensive spirit. The Italians were 

1 General Nivelles. 



''WESTERNERS" AND "EASTERNERS" 155 

holding their own on the Carso and the Isonzo. The 
framework of the war was set, the far-flung buckler of 
the Central Empires would be pierced, where they were 
strongest, the Germans would be beaten by their own 
methods, and at any cost. 

Once more the "Westerners" had their way. Once 
more their hopes were disappointed. At the end of 
1917, in spite of local tactical successes, the Western 
front remained unbroken, the Italians had retreated to 
the line of the Piave, and the Eastern front had dis- 
solved in the throes of revolution. In Palestine and 
Mesopotamia, the Allies had struck two heavy blows at 
Turkey, and the Ottoman Empire was drifting into 
chaos. A direct blow at Constantinople would have en- 
countered slight opposition, it would have been wel- 
comed by the masses of the people as a deliverance. In 
Macedonia the Bulgars were showing signs of disaffec- 
tion, but here inaction, both military and diplomatic, 
continued the stalemate. The alliance of America had 
saved the financial situation, but no effective military 
support could be expected from this quarter for many 
months to come. 

Fortunately for the British Empire and for civiliza- 
tion, German policy was also controlled by "Western- 
ers." These men were essentially experts, past masters 
of technique, but indifferent exponents of the military 
art when applied to a world-wide war. They had failed 
to seize their opportunity in 1914, when Paris and the 
Channel Ports were at their mercy. During 1915 and 
1916, they had squandered lives and ammunition in 
costly offensives on the Western front, when they might 
have taken Petrograd. In 1917, they lacked the insight 
to perceive that their conquests on the Eastern front 



156 OLD EUROPE'S SUICIDE 

more than compensated the cheek to overweening aspira- 
tions in the West, which, owing to their past mistakes, 
could not be gratified. If at the end of 1917 the Ger- 
man Government had offered terms of peace, based on 
the evacuation of France and Belgium and including 
the cession of Alsace and Lorraine, and had during the 
winter months withdrawn their troops to the right bank 
of the Meuse, the Allied Governments could hardly have 
refused. 

In France the drain on man-power had been appalling. 
A continuance of hostilities involving further losses 
would have aroused opposition in influential circles, and 
would have been denounced as illogical and quixotic, as 
a sacrifice of French interests on the altar of Great 
Britain, when peace could be had on advantageous 
terms. The position of the other Allies would have been 
difficult in the extreme. To continue the war in the 
West, without France as a base, would have been im- 
possible. The only alternative would have been an in- 
tensification of the blockade and the operations in the 
Eastern theatres. These operations would no longer 
have been confined to Turks and Bulgars, and new bases 
would have been required to mount them on a proper 
scale; further, the non-existence of a comprehensive 
Eastern policy would have been a cause of much delay. 
America had not declared war against either Turkey or 
Bulgaria. The Italians had interests in the East; but, 
under these altered circumstances, their position on the 
Piave front would have been critical, and might have 
forced them to make peace. The Allied peoples were 
war weary, peace talk would have aroused their hopes, 
and have been more convincing than the arguments of 
Imperialists. 



''WESTERNERS" AND ''EASTERNERS" 157 

By proposing peace, the German Government might 
have lost prestige, but would have gained something 
more substantial — a secure position in the East. In- 
stead, at the beginning of 1918, everything was sacri- 
ficed to a renewal of offensives on the Western front. 
The reinforcements asked for by Bulgaria were not sent, 
and Turkey was abandoned to her fate. Ominous mut- 
terings from the working classes in Germany were disre- 
garded. By a rigorous application of the military system 
and by promises of victory, a clique of ambitious gen- 
erals kept the German people well in hand. 

If a frontal attack against a sector of an immense en- 
trenched position could lead to decisive results, the 
German offensive of March, 1918, should have had the 
desired effect. It penetrated to within ten miles of 
Amiens, a vital point on the Allied communications, and 
there, in spite of the most prodigious efforts, it petered 
out. The ratio between the front of attack and the depth 
of advance had exceeded all previous records, but just 
as success seemed certain, human endurance reached its 
limits, and proved once more its subjugation to an in- 
human and automatic law. The British front had not 
been broken, though it had been badly bent. 

Undeterred by this dreadful and unavailing slaughter, 
the German leaders persisted in their efforts, and staked 
the destiny of their country on one last gambler's throw. 
Four offensives had been repulsed, a fifth was now at- 
tempted with Paris as its goal. It was dictated by po- 
litical, and possibly dynastic, considerations, and was not 
executed with customary German skill. 

To close observers, it had for some time been apparent 
that German strategy was weakening. There had been 
less coherence in the operations, and symptoms of in- 



158 OLD EUROPE'S SUICIDE 

decision on the part of the High Command. Field- 
Marshal Foch was undoubtedly^ a better strategist than 
any of his adversaries, and the war of movement, re- 
sulting from the German offensives, gave him an oppor- 
tunity which he was not slow to seize. A series of ham- 
mer blows along the whole Western front deprived Lud- 
endorff of the initiative which he had hitherto possessed, 
and forced the German armies to evacuate the salients in 
the direction of Paris and Amiens. 

Other and more fundamental factors, however, had 
already undermined Germany's powers of resistance. 
The discontent among the masses of the German popu- 
lation had assumed menacing proportions ; it affected the 
troops on the lines of communication directly, and 
through them the soldiers on the front. During the last 
offensives the number of men who surrendered voluntar- 
ily had been above the average, and when the retirement 
began, when all hopes of taking Paris in 1918 had disap- 
peared, when American soldiers had been encountered, 
proving the failure of the submarine campaign, 
the spirit of the German Armies changed. Certain units 
still fought well, but the majority of the German soldiers 
became untrustworthy, though not yet mutinous. An 
eye-witness relates that on their arrival at Chateau- 
Thierry, the German officers were in the highest spirits, 
and the words ' ' Nach Paris ' ' ^ were continuall.y on their 
lips. The men, on the other hand, seemed depressed and 
moody, but when the order was issued for withdrawal, 
their demeanour brightened, they found a slogan full 
of portents, the words were "Nach Berlin"- and were 
uttered with a smile. This incident is authentic, it took 
place in July. 

1 To Paris. 2 To Berlin. 



''WESTERNERS" AND ''EASTERNERS" 159 

History was repeating itself, misgovernment by a sel- 
fish upper class had produced in Germany the same con- 
ditions which had driven the Russian people into revo- 
lution. In both countries a state of war had accentuated 
pre-existent evils, by giving a freer rein to those who 
exploit patriotism, courage and devotion for their per- 
sonal ends. Germany had outlasted Russia because, in 
her military system, she had an almost perfect organiza- 
tion from an administrative point of view. This system, 
by concentrating all the resources of the nation on a 
single purpose and putting them at the disposal of a 
few resolute, all-powerful men, had enabled the Ger- 
man people to make incredible efforts. Had it been con- 
trolled by statesmen, total disruption might have been 
averted ; directed by infatuated and homicidal militarists, 
its verj" excellence enabled it to hold the Empire in its 
grip until disaster was complete. 

From June, 1918, onwards, all hope of a German vic- 
tory on the Western Front had disappeared. Germany 
was seething with discontent, her industrial life was 
paralised, the supply of munitions had seriously de- 
creased ; yet Ludendorff persevered, he drove the armies 
with remorseless energy, a kind of madness possessed 
him and his acolytes, imposing desperate courses and 
blinding them to facts. Their whole political existence 
was at stake, failure meant loss of place and power, of all 
that made life sweet, so they conceived a sinister design 
— if they failed ' ' all else should go to ruin and become a 
prey. ' ' 

When the crash came, it came from within. For 
months, the German armies on the front had been a 
facade screening a welter of misery and starvation. The 
machine had functioned soullessly, causing the useless 



160 OLD EUROPE'S SUICIDE 

massacre of thousands of soldiers, while women and chil- 
dren died by tens of thousands in the midst of fictitious 
opulence. During these last days, the rank and file 
fought without hope, for an Emperor who was to save 
himself by flight, for leaders who treated them like 
parvus, for the defence of hearths and homes where fam- 
ine and disease were rife. Long years of discipline had 
made these men automatons, they were parts of a great 
projectile whose momentum was not yet exhausted, and 
they had long ceased to reason why. 

Unreasoning docility is held by some to be a civic 
virtue: that was the German doctrine and the basis of 
their Militarj^ System, which, though at its inception 
a defensive system, became an instrument of conquest, 
pride and insolence, a menace to the world. The form 
of war which Germany initiated and perfected has de- 
graded war itself, it has organized slaughter with me- 
chanical devices, has made tanks of more account than 
brains, and has crowned the triumph of matter over 
mind. There was a redeeming glamour about war as 
made by Alexander and Napoleon, today it is a hideous 
butchery, which can be directed by comparatively medi- 
ocre men. It has ceased to be an art and has become 
an occupation inextricably interwoven with a nation's 
industrial life. 

The downfall of the German Military System is a 
stem reminder of the vicissitude of things, and has re- 
moved a brooding shadow which darkened civilization. 
If calamitous experience serves as a guide to statesmen 
in the future, its rehabilitation will be prevented — in 
any form, however specious, in any land. 



CHAPTER XV 

The Peace Conference at Paris — 1919 

"Until philosophers are kings, or the kings and princes of this 
world have the power and spirit of philosophy, and political great- 
ness and wisdom meet in one, and those commoner natures which 
pursue either at the expense of the other are compelled to stand 
aside — cities will never rest from their evils, no — nor the human 
race, as I believe." — Plato. 

Four days before the official declaration of war on 
Germany by the Government of the United States, Presi- 
dent Wilson made a speech before the American Con- 
gress which contained the following passage:^ "We 
shall fight . . . for Democracy . . . for the rights and 
liberties of small nations, for a universal dominion of 
right by such a concert of free peoples as shall bring 
peace and safety to all nations and make the world itself 
at last free." A few months later the same spokesman 
of a free people declared:- "They (men everywhere) 
insist . . . that no nation or people shall be robbed or 
punished because the irresponsible rulers of a single 
country have themselves done deep and abominable 
wrong. . . . The wrongs . . . committed in this war 
. . . cannot and must not be righted by the commission 
of similar wrongs against Germany and her allies." 
Later still, when the victory of Democracy had become 
certain, a forecast of the terms of peace was given by the 
same authoritative voice : ^ "In four years of conflict 
the whole world has been drawn in, and the common will 

1 Speech of April 2nd, 1917. 

2 Message of December 4th. 1917. 

8 Declaration of September 27th, 1918. 

161 



162 OLD EUROPE'S SUICIDE 

of mankind has been substituted for the particular pur- 
poses of individual States. The issues must now be set- 
tled by no compromise or adjustment, but definitely and 
once for all. There must be a full acceptance of the 
principle that the interest of the weakest is as sacred 
as the interest of the strongest. That is what we mean 
when we speak of a permanent peace." 

These and a number of similar utterances had pro- 
duced a deep effect throughout the world. The ruling 
classes in Europe professed to regard them as merely 
propaganda, and not to be taken seriously, but they 
could not escape the uneasy consciousness that their own 
methods in the past were being arraigned before an un- 
pleasantly public court of justice. Moderate opinion in 
all countries was disposed to welcome these bold state- 
ments of democratic principles as furnishing a conven- 
ient bridge to a more advanced stage in political evolu- 
tion, views which would have been condemned as senti- 
mental, and even anarchic, in a humbler social reformer, 
on the lips of a President were considered as a states- 
man's recognition of the logic of hard facts. The masses 
thought they were the ' ' plain people, ' ' for whom and to 
whom the President had spoken, and in their hearts had 
risen a great hope. 

Wlien Mr. Wilson first arrived in Europe huge crowds 
acclaimed him, and, making due allowance for the cyni- 
cal, the curious and indifferent, these crowds contained 
a far from insignificant proportion of ardent, enthusias- 
tic spirits, who welcomed him not as a President or a 
politician, but as the bearer of a message, not as a Rabbi 
with a doctrine made up of teachings in the synagogues, 
but as a latter-day Messiah come to drive forth the 
money-changers and intriguers from the temple of a 



1919— PEACE CONFERENCE AT PARIS 163 

righteous peace. Eager idealists believed that the vic- 
tory of democracy had set a period to the evils resulting 
from autocratic forms of government, that with the ter- 
mination of the war the topmost block had been placed 
on a pyramid of errors, that a real master-builder had 
appeared, who would lay the foundations of a cleaner, 
better world. They saw in him the champion of de- 
cency and morality, a doughty champion, strong in the 
backing of millions of free people, who had seen liberty 
in danger, and had sent their men across an ocean to 
fight for freedom in an older world in torment. They 
were grateful and offered him their services, loyally and 
unreservedly, asking but one thing — to be shown the 
way. History contains no parallel to this movement. 
Savanarola and Rienzi had appealed to local, or at most 
national feeling. Here was a man who stood for some- 
thing universal and inspiring, who was more than a 
heroic priest, more than the Tribune of a people, a man 
who, while enjoying personal security, could speak and 
act for the welfare of all peoples in the name of right. 
For such causes, men in the past have suffered persecu- 
tion and have been faithful unto death. 

No Peace Conference has ever undertaken a more 
stupendous task than that which confronted the delegates 
of the Allied States in Paris in January, 1919. Central 
Europe was seething with revolution and slowly dying 
of starv^ation. Beyond lay Russia, unknown yet full of 
portents, more terrible to many timorous souls than ever 
Germany had been. The war had come to a sudden and 
unexpected end, and enemy territory had not been in- 
vaded save at extremities which were not vital points. 
The Central Empires and their Allies had collapsed 
from internal causes. Germany and Austria could not, 



164 OLD EUROPE'S SUICIDE 

for the moment, oppose invasion, which had lost all its 
terrors for distracted populations, who hoped that French 
and British soldiers would, by their presence, maintain 
law and order and ensure supplies of food. On the 
other hand, neither the Serbs nor the Rumanians had 
had their territorial aspirations satisfied during the prog- 
ress of the war. Both races had followed the usual Bal- 
kan custom by invading the territories they claimed 
during the armistice; this method, when employed 
against Hungarians, involved the use of force; it also 
embittered relations between themselves where, as in the 
Banat, their claims clashed and overlapped. Further 
north, the Czecho-Slovaks had proclaimed their inde- 
pendence, and Poland was being resurrected; the fron- 
tiers of both these States were vague and undefined, but 
their appetites were unlimited, and Teschen, with its 
coalfields, was a pocket in dispute. 

Not only had the Peace Conference to endeavour to 
prevent excessive and premature encroachment on enemy 
territory by Allied States, it had also to compose serious 
differences between the Western Powers in regard to the 
Adriatic coast, Syria, and Asia Minor arising out of 
secret treaties. 

These considerations, though emoarrassing for the rep- 
resentatives of Great Britain, France and Italy, did not 
affect President Wilson to the same exient; in fact they 
rather strengthened his position and confirmed the ex- 
pectation that he would be the real arbiter of the Con- 
ference, His speeches had, in the opinion of innumer- 
able men and women, indicated the only solution of the 
world-problem. The "Fourteen Points" had outlined, 
without inconvenient precision, a settlement of interna- 
tional questions; he was the head of a State untram- 



1919— PEACE CONFERENCE AT PARIS 165 

melled by secret treaties, the only State not on the verge 
of bankruptcy, a State which could furnish both moral 
and material aid. When M. Albert Thomas said that 
the choice lay between Wilson and Lenine, he may have 
been guilty of exaggeration, but he expressed a feeling 
which was general and real. Whether that feeling was 
justified, the future alone will show. 

In the Declaration of September 27, 1918, President 
Wilson stated: "All who sit at the Peace table must 
be ready to pay the price, and the price is impartial 
justice, no matter whose interest is crossed." Later on 
in the same Declaration he added: ''the indispensable in- 
strumentality is a 'League of Nations,' but it cannot be 
formed now." Five conditions of peace were set forth; 
of these, the third laid down that there could be no 
alliances or covenants within the League of Nations, and 
the Declaration concluded with an appeal to the Allies: 
"I hope that the leaders of the Allied Governments will 
speak as plainly as I have tried to speak, and say whether 
my statement of the issues is in any degree mistaken." 

The inference, drawn by the ordinary man after pe- 
rusing this Declaration, was that its author expected the 
Conference to deal with each and every question on its 
merits, that the "League of Nations" would eventually 
be the instrument employed in reaching the final settle- 
ment, and that, following on the establishment of the 
League, all previous alliances would cease to exist and 
future alliances would be precluded. The questioning 
form of the concluding sentence suggested doubts as to 
the attitude of the Associated Powers, but the presence 
of the President at the peace table served as presumptive 
evidence that those doubts had been set at rest. 

A "League of Nations" was, undoubtedly, the ideal 



166 OLD EUROPE'S SUICIDE 

instrument for achieving a just settlement of the many 
and varied questions which contronted the Peace Con- 
ference, but a "League," or "Society of Nations" as 
defined by Lord Robert Cecil/ could not be created be- 
fore the conclusion of a Preliminary Peace with Ger- 
many and her Allies, with, as its corollary, the inclusion 
of, at least, Germany, Austria, and Hungary within the 
League. In the words of Lord Robert Cecil, such a So- 
ciety would be incomplete, and proportionately ineffec- 
tive, unless every civilized State joined it. 

The formation of a full-fledged League required time. 
Further, in the frame of mind which prevailed in all the 
Allied and Associated States, a real "Society of Na- 
tions," implying "friendly association" with the enemy 
peoples, as distinguished from their late "irresponsible 
Governments," was impossible. An alternative did, 
however, exist — an alternative for which a precedent 
could be found and which needed moral leadership rather 
than cumbrous machinery for its application. This al- 
ternative would have consisted of three processes: the 
conclusion of a Preliminary Peace with Germany and 
her Allies, combined with suspension of blockade; the 
admission to the Peace Conference of delegates represent- 
ing the different parts of the German Empire, Austria, 
Hungary, Bulgaria, and Turkey ; collaboration with these 
delegates in the settlement of territorial readjustments 
in accordance with the principles enunciated in President 
Wilson's speeches and the "Fourteen Points." The 
Congress of Vienna had set the precedent by admitting 
to its councils Talleyrand, the representative of a con- 

1 In a speech at Birmingham University on December 12, 1918, Lord 
Robert Cecil said : "Our new 'Society of Nations' must not be a group, 
however large and important. It is absolutely essential that the 'League 
of Nations' should be open to every nation which can be trusted by its 
fellows to accept 'ex animo,' the principles and basis of such a Society." 



1919— PEACE CONFERENCE AT PARIS 167 

quered State which had changed its form of govern- 
ment in the hour of defeat. The conclusion of a ''Pre- 
liminary Peace" presented no difficulty. Germany had 
reached the lowest pitch of weakness; her military and 
naval forces had ceased to exist, her population was de- 
pendent on the Allies for supplies of food, she was torn 
by internal dissensions, and the Socialist and Democratic 
parties had gained the upper hand. Bavaria was show- 
ing separatist tendencies, and her example might be fol- 
lowed by other German States. The same conditions 
prevailed in the other enemy countries to an even more 
marked degree. In short, the Allies could have counted 
on acceptance of any preliminary peace terms which 
they might have chosen to impose. They could have 
ensured their fulfilment, not only by the maintenance of 
military forces on provisional and temporary frontiers, 
but also by the threat of a reimposition of an effective 
blockade. In an atmosphere free from the blighting in- 
fluences of an armistice, dispassionate treatment of a 
mass of ethnical questions would have been possible. An 
appeal could have been made to the common sense and 
interests of the enemy peoples, through their statesmen 
and publicists, which would have disarmed reaction, and 
which would have made it possible to utilize the more 
enlightened elements in the key-States of Central Europe 
for the attainment of a durable peace. A Peace Confer- 
ence so composed would have been the embryo of a true 
* ' Society of Nations, ' ' a fitting instrument for the prac- 
tical application of theories not new nor ill-considered, 
whose development had been retarded in peaceful, pros- 
perous times, and which now were imperatively de- 
manded by multitudes of suffering people weighed down 
by sorrow and distress. 



168 OLD EUROPE'S SUICIDE 

Mr. "Wilson does not seem to have considered any alter- 
native to the immediate formulation of a covenant of the 
"Lea^e of Nations." He left the all-important ques- 
tion of peace in abeyance, and devoted his energies to 
the preparation of a document which would serve as an 
outward and visible sign of personal success. Perhaps 
he was dismayed by the opposition, in reactionary Allied 
circles, to moral theories considered by officials to be 
impracticable and even dangerous, however useful they 
might once have been for purposes of propaganda. He 
may have been paralysed amid unaccustomed surround- 
ings where he was not the supreme authority. At any 
rate, he neglected to use a weapon whose potency he, of 
all rulers, should have known — the weapon of publicity, 
which was, as ever, at his service and would have rallied 
to the causes he espoused the support and approval of 
sincere reformers in every class. He worked in secret 
and secured adhesion to a draft of the covenant of the 
"League of Nations," whose colourless and non-commit- 
tal character betrayed official handiwork. 

The man who had arrived in Paris as the bearer of a 
message whose echoes had filled the world with hope, 
left France the bearer of a "scrap of paper." He re- 
turned to find his authority lessened. Before, he had 
stood alone ; he came back to take his place as one of 
the "Big Four." It is given to few men to act as well 
as to affirm. 

Mr. Lloyd George was unable to help the President; 
his election speeches had been the reverse of a moral 
exposition of the issues, and the Parliamentary majority 
they had helped to create allowed no lapses into Liberal- 
ism. More than a year had passed since the Prime Min- 
ister of Great Britain had stated that the British people 



1919— PEACE CONFERENCE AT PARIS 169 

were not fighting "a war of aggression against the Ger- 
man people ... or to destroy Austria-Hungary, or to 
deprive Turkey of its capital or of the rich and re- 
nowned lands of Asia Minor and Thrace which are pre- 
dominantly Turkish in race." Teschen had not been 
heard of then, and the demands of Italy and M. Veni- 
zelos were either forgotten or ignored. Mr. Lloyd 
George's native sense and insight would have avoided 
many pitfalls; the Bullit revelations did no more than 
bare justice to his acumen in regard to Russia, but he 
was terrorized by a section of the British Press, which 
held him relentlessly to vote-catching pledges, however 
reckless or extravagant. 

The Prime Minister of the French Republic was pre- 
occupied with revenging past humiliations, with retriev- 
ing the fortunes of his country and making it secure. 
He did lip-service to the "League of Nations," but 
talked of it with sardonic humour, and did it infinite 
harm. A dominating personality and a prodigious in- 
tellect enriched by wide experience were lost to the 
cause of human progress. No rare occurrence, when the 
possessors of these gifts are old. 

AA^ith the progress of the Conference, M. Clemenceau's 
influence became stronger. He had made fewer public 
speeches than his colleagues, and perhaps that simplified 
his task. "Certain it is that words, as a Tartar's bow, 
do shoot back upon the understanding of the wisest, and 
mightily entangle and pervert the judgment." 

While precious months were being devoted to fram- 
ing the draft covenant of the League of Nations, Com- 
missions appointed by the Peace Conference had been 
busy preparing reports on multifarious points of detail. 
These reports were the work of experts, and could not 



170 OLD EUROPE'S SUICIDE 

fail to influence the final decisions of the Supreme Coun- 
cil ; as a matter of fact, they were followed textually in 
some of the weightiest decisions reached. The men who 
prepared them were in no sense statesmen, they were 
trammelled by official routine and exposed to all man- 
ner of outside influences. The whole tone of life in Paris 
was inimical to an objective attitude. Clamours for 
vengeance distorted the natural desire of honest men 
in France and Belgium for security against future ag- 
gression by a resuscitated Germany. The big industrial 
interests wanted to stifle German trade and at the same 
time exact a huge indemnity; they exploited the expec- 
tation of the working classes that, as a result of victory. 
Allied industry would be given a fair start in future 
competition with the enemy States. 

In the absence of any higher guidance, either moral 
or informed, statecraft was entirely lacking in the pro- 
ceedings of the Conference, yet the situation was such 
that, if adroitly handled, measures were possible which 
would have contributed powerfully to the security of 
France and Belgium, by attenuating and dissipating 
reactionary elements in the German Empire. Advan- 
tage might have been taken of the distrust inspired by 
Prussia in the other German States, to create autonomous 
and neutral zones in the Palatinate and the territory 
formerly comprised in the Hauseatic League, to assist 
Bavaria to shake off Prussian hegemony, and become a 
component with German Austria of a new Catholic 
State in South-Eastem Europe, where conflicting na- 
tional aims and unruly populations needed a counter- 
weight. 

No such measures were taken. The Conference was 
obsessed with details. Every conceivable question was 



1919— PEACE CONFERENCE AT PARIS 171 

discussed before the one that was most urgent — the con- 
clusion of some form of peace which would let the world 
resume its normal life. A state of affairs was protracted 
which encouraged the greedy and unscrupulous, which 
checked any expression of opinion by the ' ' plain people ' ' 
of President Wilson's speeches, which gave an opening 
to militarists, jingo journalists, and politicians, whose 
ideas were those of German Junkers and who still be- 
lieved in war. 

Jungle law reasserted itself. In an allegoric sense, 
the Conference was like a jungle through which a forest 
fire had passed, destroying the scanty verdure it had 
once possessed, leaving bare, blackened stumps too hard 
to burn. Some of the larger, fiercer beasts had been 
expelled; a few remained, and they, too, had been 
changed. A solitary eagle had descended from his dis- 
tant eyrie and, like a parrot, screeched incessantly. 
"Fiume, Fiume, Fiume" — a chuckle followed, it said — 
"Fourteen Points" but this was an obvious aside. The 
performance was disappointing; polished and well- 
turned phrases had been expected from so great a bird. 
The lion's majestic mien had altered somewhat, his move- 
ments were uncertain ; from time to time his eyes sought, 
furtively, a pack of jackals, who should have hunted 
with him, but, of late, they had grown insolent to their 
natural leader and reviled him in a high-pitched, daily 
wail. An old and wounded tiger roamed about the 
jungle; his strength, so far from being impaired, had 
become almost leonine ; sometimes the jackals joined his 
own obedient cubS;, and then he snarled contentedly while 
the lion roared with jealousy and rage. The bear was 
absent ; he had turned savage through much suffering, 
and the wolves who prowled around the outskirts of the 



172 OLD EUROPE'S SUICIDE 

jungle prevented him from entering; they howled with 
terror whenever he approached, and wanted the lion and 
the tiger to help to kill this dangerous type of bear. 
A yellow dragon moaned in the far distance, but was 
unheeded ; he was no more a peril and had little left for 
the other beasts to steal. Jubilant and shrill, the crow- 
ing of a cock was heard above the babel of the jungle, 
announcing, to all who cared to listen, the dawn of fifteen 
years of liberty in the valley of the Saar. 

The Peace Treaties promulgated by the Conference at 
Paris are impregnated with the atmosphere in which 
they were drawn up — an atmosphere charged with sus- 
picion and hatred, fear and greed ; not one of them is 
in the spirit of the League of Nations. The Treaty 
with Germany, in particular, discloses the predominance 
of French influence in Allied councils. An old French 
nobleman once remarked, "Les Bourgeois sont terribles 
lors qu'ils out eu peur." The conditions imposed on a 
democratized and utterl}^ defeated Germany are terrible 
indeed, but curiously ineffective; they are a timid at- 
tempt to modify vindictiveness by a half-hearted appli- 
cation of President Wilson 's ethical principles ; they sat- 
isfy no one ; this is their one redeeming feature, since it 
shows that they might have been even more vindictive 
and still more futile for the achievement of their pur- 
pose, which was, presumably, a lasting peace. Militarists 
and reactionaries could not conceive a state of peace 
which did not repose on force and the military occupa- 
tion of large tracts of German territory. They were 
twenty years behind the time. They did not realize 
that armies in democratic countries consist of human 
beings who observe and think, who cannot be treated as 
machines, and bidden to subordinate their reasoning 



1919— PEACE CONFERENCE AT PARIS 173 

faculties to the designs of a few selfish and ambitious 
men. Liberal thinkers, on the other hand, were shocked 
at Treaties which inflamed the hearts of seventy million 
German-speaking people with hatred and a desire for 
revenge, which cemented German unity, which aroused a 
widespread irredentism and gave an incentive to indus- 
trious, efficient populations to devote their time and 
efforts to preparations for a future war and not to the 
arts of peace. Such men were neither visionaries nor 
sentimentalists, they were practical men of affairs, who 
foresaw that security could not be attained by visiting 
the sins of outworn mediaeval Governments on the heads 
of their innocent victims throughout Central Europe; 
that by the employment of such methods the "League 
of Nations" was turned into a farce; that exasperation 
would foster and provoke recalcitrance; that Germany 
would be a magnet to every dissatisfied State ; that other 
leagues and combinations might be formed, on which 
it would be impossible to enforce a limitation of their 
armaments. They pointed out that the imposition of 
fabulous indemnities was two-edged, that payment of 
nine-tenths of the sums suggested would have to be 
made in manufactured goods or raw materials, a mode 
of payment which, in the end, might be more profit- 
able to those that paid than to the peoples who re- 
ceived. 

Inaugurated in an idealism which may have been exag- 
gerated but was none the less sincere, the Peace Confer- 
ence has blighted the hope and faith of "plain people" 
everywhere, and has consecrated cant. Respectability 
has been enthroned amid circumstances of wealth and 
power; in its smug and unctuous presence morality has 
found no place. The foundations of a clearer, better 



174 OLD EUROPE'S SUICIDE 

world have not been laid ; the apex has been placed on a 
pyramid of errors, on which nothing can be built. 

* * « « * 

Versailles was chosen as the setting for a historic cere- 
mony — the signature of the Peace Treaty with what was 
still the German Empire, though the imperial throne 
was vacant and a workman presided at the councils of 
an Imperial Government. The choice was not without 
significance. Democracy had triumphed, and, in the 
hour of victory, had followed the example of autocratic 
rulers when making peace with other autocrats. It was 
therefore only fitting that this Peace Treaty, whose terms 
are inspired by the spirit of the past, should be signed 
in a palace of the Kings of France. 

A palace on an artificial eminence, where once had 
been flat marshes and wild forest land, built by a mon- 
arch to whom nothing was impossible, and for the in- 
dulgence of whose whims no cost was deemed excessive, 
either in money or in human lives. Viewed from the 
west on misty autumn evenings, it seems an unearthly 
fabric ; the exquisite harmony of its line crowns and com- 
pletes the surrounding landscape, floating, as by enchant- 
ment, above the tree tops, as light in texture as the 
clouds. A palace such as children dream of, when fairy 
stories haunt their minds, peopling the world with 
princes young and valiant, princesses beautiful and way- 
ward, whose parents are virtuous Kings and Queens and 
live in palaces like Versailles. 

Below the terraces, a broad alley stretches westward 
and meets the horizon at two poplars. Beyond these 
isolated trees an empty sky is seen. The poplars stand 
like sentinels guarding the confines of a vast enclosure, 
where art and nature have conspired to shut out the 



1919— PEACE CONFERENCE IN PARIS 175 

ugly things in life. A French Abbe, whose cultured 
piety ensures him a welcome in this world and admis- 
sion to the next, said that the royalty of France had 
passed between and beyond those poplars — into noth- 
ingness. 

Amid a galaxy of statues of monarchs, statesmen, 
warriors, goddesses and nymphs, only one piece of sculp- 
ture serves as a reminder that a suffering world exists — 
the face of a woman of the people, graven in bass-relief 
upon the central front. An old and tragic face, seamed 
with deep wrinkles, sullen, inscrutable, one can imagine 
it hunched between shoulders bowed by toil and shrunk 
by joyless motherhood. The eyes of stone, to which a 
sculptor's art has given life, are hard and menacing, 
hopeless but not resigned; beneath their steadfast gaze 
has passed all that was splendid in a bygone age, the 
greatest autocrats on earth and women of quite a differ- 
ent sort. 

''Sceptre and crown have tumbled down 
And in the level dust been laid 
"With the poor yokel 's scythe and spade. ' ' ^ 

There were many faces in France and other countries 
which wore this same expression, even after the triumph 
of Democracy over the autocrats of Central Europe. 
They were not to be seen, however, on the terraces of the 
palace when the Treaty of Peace with Germany was 
signed in the "Hall of Mirrors," where men in black 
were met together on yet another ' ' Field of Blackbirds, ' ' 
where, after months of bickering, the larger birds were 
expounding to their weaker brethren the latest infamies 

1 In the original — "Sceptre and crovra will tumble down, 
And in the level dust be laid," etc. 



176 OLD EUROPE'S SUICIDE 

of Jungle Law. The well-dressed men and women who 
thronged those terraces were something between the 
proud aristocrats who created the legend of Versailles 
and the masses of the underworld who have sur- 
vived them, and yet they seemed further from the two 
extremes than the extremes were from each other; they 
were not of the stuff of leaders and were too prosperous 
to be led; their manner was almost timid to the soldiers 
on duty at this ceremony, who, though men of the peo- 
ple, were disdainful to civilians after four years of war. 
One felt that this was a class which might, at no distant 
date, attempt to imitate some Roman Emperors and pay 
Pretorian Guards. A catastrophic war had contained 
no lesson for these people; for them, its culmination at 
Versailles was far more a social than a political event; 
they took no interest in politics, they wanted security 
for property and a Government of strong men who 
would keep the masses well in hand. They were not real 
democrats, and they cheered both long and loud, when 
the men, who between them had betrayed Democracy, 
emerged from the stately palace to see the fountains 
play. 



CHAPTER XVI 

Looking Back and Forward 

Some one has said that evolution is a fact and progress 
a sentiment. This definition easts a doubt on progress: 
it implies that progressive thinkers are in the category 
of sentimentalists who do not deal in facts. 

If no alternative existed between looking back on the 
slow advance of evolution and looking forward in a 
spirit of sentimental hope, the present situation would 
be dark indeed; a pessimist might be inclined to con- 
clude that civilization had ceased to advance, that, on 
the contrary, its movement was retrograde. 

There is surely a middle course — a course not easy 
to pursue. It consists in standing on the ground of 
fact, however miry, with heart and head uplifted, and 
looking forward, with the determination not to let man- 
kind sink to the level of the beasts that perish, eager to 
reach some higher ground. 

Looking back over the past seven years, a reflective 
mind is appalled by their futility and waste, and yet 
an analysis of this period as a whole reveals that qual- 
ity of ruthless logic, of inevitable sequence, to be found 
in some Greek tragedies, in which the naked truth in all 
its horror is portrayed with supreme dramatic art. 

Each phase of this blood-stained period discloses the 
same carnival of mendacity and intrigue, the subordina- 

177 



178 OLD EUROPE'S SUICIDE 

tion of the public interest to the designs of a few ambi- 
tious men, the exploitation of patriotism, self-sacrifice, 
patience and valour by officials, whose inhuman outlook 
and mediocrity of mind were screened by a mask of 
mystery. A piecemeal study would be profitless. Mili- 
tary instruction might be gained from oft-recurring 
slaughter, and hints on how to hoodwink peoples could 
certainly be gathered from spasmodic intervals of peace. 
But these are not the lessons the world seeks, they are 
precisely what it wishes to forget. Rather, the effort 
must be made to trace the underlying impulse in this 
tragic drama, which runs through it like a ' ' leit-motif, ' ' 
which welds together processes so varying in their nature, 
and renders them cumulative and inseparable, until they 
culminate in one unified and comprehensive act. 

In its broadest sense, that impulse had its source in a 
frame of mind, in a false conception, expressed in out- 
worn governmental systems left uncontrolled and toler- 
ated by the victims, who, though suffering, dreaded 
change. This frame of mind was general throughout 
Europe; it was not confined to the Central Empires, 
whose ruling classes, by their superior efficiency, merely 
offered the supreme example of autocratic Governments 
which aimed at world-dominion both in a political and 
economic sense. To the junkers and business men in Ger- 
many and Austria-Hungary, the war of liberation in the 
Balkans in 1912 was an opportunity to be seized, with 
a lack of scruple as cynical as it was frank, because they 
hoped to fish in troubled waters; its perversion into an 
internecine struggle was considered clever diplomacy. 
The Treaty of Bucharest in 1913 was regarded as a 
triumph of statecraft, since it caused a readjustment of 
the "Balance of Power" in favour of themselves. But 



LOOKING BACK AND FORWARD 179 

the so-called democratic Western Powers gave their tacit 
acquiescence to these nefarious proceedings ; their 
association with the Russian Empire, so far from being 
designed to correct immorality and injustice, perpetuated 
all the evils of a system based on interested motives and 
selfish fears. The family of nations consisted of six 
Great Powers ; Small States existed under sufferance and 
were treated as poor relations. Their rights were nebu- 
lous and sometimes inconvenient, not to be recognized 
until they could be extorted. This happened sometimes. 
The "Balance of Power" was a net with closely woven 
meshes. Even the strongest carnivori in the European 
jungle required, at times, the assistance of a mouse. 

Judged by its conduct of affairs in 1912 and the early 
part of 1913, the British Government was without a 
Continental policy ; at first, it seemed to favour Austria- 
Hungary, the Albanian settlement and the Treaty of 
Bucharest were a triumph for the "Ball-Platz, " ^ though 
both these transactions were shortsighted and unjust. 
French policy was paralysed by fear of Germany, and, 
owing to a mistaken choice of representatives in almost 
all the Balkan capitals, the French Foreign Office was 
curiously ill-informed. Italy was the ally of the Cen- 
tral Powers and could not realize her own colonial aspi- 
rations without their help. Russia, as ever, was the 
enigma, and Russian policy in the Balkans, though osten- 
sibly benevolent, aimed at the reduction of Bulgaria and 
Servia to the position of vassal States. Rumania was 
also an ally of the Central Powers. Dynastic and eco- 
nomic reasons made her their client. She held aloof 
from purely Balkan questions, and posed as the "Sen- 
tinel of the East." 

1 The former Austro-Hungarlan Foreign Office in Vienna. 



180 OLD EUROPE'S SUICIDE 

Under such conditions, it was idle to expect an objec- 
tive and reasonable, or even decent, handling of Balkan 
questions. Bulgaria was sacrificed ruthlessly to oppor- 
tunism and expediency. The most efficient race on the 
south bank of the Danube was embittered and driven 
into unnatural hostility to Russia. The Balkan hloc 
was disrupted by skilful manipulation of national feel- 
ing, which was in many cases honest and sincere, and 
thus, the Central Empires were able to so dispose the 
pawns on the European chessboard as to facilitate their 
opening' moves, if, from a continuance in their 
policy of expansion, there should ensue a European 
War. 

In due course, as was inevitable, the "Great War" 
came. During the latter part of 1913 Great Britain 
had been inclined to favour Russia's Balkan policy. 
This suited France, and so the sides were set. Through- 
out the war, the British Empire, save for a brief and 
disastrous experiment at Gallipoii, continued to be with- 
out an Eastern policy. The greatest Mohammedan 
Power in the world allowed itself to be swayed by French 
and Russian counsels, and the heritage handed down and 
perfected by Warren Hastings, Clive, and Canning was 
left to the mercy of events. No Frenchman, however 
gifted, can grasp the scope and mission of the British 
Empire; to the Pan-Slavs who directed Russia's foreign 
policy, our far-flung supremacy in the East was an ob- 
ject of envy and a stumbling block. 

Although the Balkan States, while they remained 
neutral, were courted assiduously by the Allied Powers, 
they were still looked upon as pawns. A policy 
which can only be described as unprincipled was pur- 
sued. British prestige became the tool of French and 



LOOKING BACK AND FORWARD 181 

Russian intrigue, and Great Britain's reputation for 
tenacity, justice and fair play was jeopardized. 

Rumania, once she became our ally, was treated as 
a dependency of Russia, although the most superficial 
student of the past history of these two States could 
have foreseen her fate. But she, like Servia and Greece, 
was only a little country and counted as small dust in 
the balance. She could be over-run and devastated, once 
she had played her part; that was a little country's lot. 
The frame of mind which, subconsciously perhaps, pos- 
sessed the French and British Governments was not so 
unlike that of the actively vicious autocratic Empires; 
they, too, relied on experts and officials, to whom Small 
States and helpless peoples were negligible factors, who 
respected only force and wealth, who viewed human 
affairs exclusively from those standpoints, and, wrapped 
in a mantle of self-satisfaction, as ignorant of psychology 
as of true statesmanship, could not perceive the portents 
of the times. 

It is possible that historians of the future will select 
three events as the outstanding features of the "Great 
World War ' ' : the participation of the United States of 
America, the Russian Revolution, and the collapse of the 
German Military System. The first of these was, un- 
doubtedly, an expression of idealism. Cynics may say 
that America was influenced by self-interest, but they 
invariably judge humanity by their own worldly stand- 
ards. The "plain people" of America were inspired 
by nobler sentiments; the measure of their sincerity in 
the cause of liberty is their present disillusionment, 
caused by the failure of democratic Governments to make 
a democratic peace. The intervention of America un- 
doubtedly ensured and accelerated the final triumph of 



182 OLD EUROPE'S SUICIDE 

the Allies; but it did more than that, it solidarized 
democracy for a brief period, and demonstrated the will- 
ingness of free people to sacrifice their lives and money 
for an unworldly cause. It was, to a great extent, an 
Anglo-Saxon movement, and opened up, till then, un- 
dreamt of vistas ; it was a light which, although a tran- 
sient gleam, lit up the way for the regeneration of the 
world. 

The Russian Revolution was the outcome of misgov- 
emment by a corrupt bureaucracy, and the passionate 
desire of an exhausted, suffering population for a re- 
turn to peace. Misconceived by the rest of Europe and 
misdirected by Kerensky, it degenerated into civil war; 
yet it did prove that even the most down-trodden people 
possess the power and instinct of self -liberation. 

The collapse of the German Military System removed 
a formidable barrier to human progress. Its efficiency, 
as an administrative and national institution, had 
seemed to justify the glorification of the State at the 
expense of individual freedom; a dangerous example 
had been set which militarists in every land took as a 
model and a guide. Had Germany been ruled by states- 
men, this odious system might have gained a further 
lease of life; by a fortunate fatality it became the in- 
strument of its own destruction, it was the sword on 
which Old Europe fell, its very excellence caused that 
finely tempered blade to last until it broke into a thou- 
sand pieces, thereby providing a conclusive revelation 
of the futility of force. 

Events so portentous should have influenced the minds 
of delegates who were worthy of the name of statesmen,, 
when they met to make the Peace at Paris. Unfortu- 
nately, this was not the case. The same frame of mind 



LOOKING BACK AND FORWARD 183 

permeated the Conference as that which had existed 
before and throughout the war. Small States and peo- 
ples everywhere were sacrificed to the interests of the 
greater victorious Powers, whose spokesmen were the 
representatives and members of a propertied and priv- 
ileged class. Two fears were ever present in their 
minds: Germany, the monster python State, had com- 
mitted suicide, and thus had brought them victory, but 
this victory was so sudden and unexpected that they 
could hardly understand its meaning. They imagined 
that following on it would come a swift reaction, that 
the old system would revive; in fact, they half hoped 
that it would, it conjured up less disturbing visions than 
this revolt of a warlike, disciplined people, this abrupt 
transition from the old order to the new. Even victory 
had lost its savour ; it seemed to them a source of danger 
that the most evil Government should fall, and so they 
set to work to recreate the bogy of German militarism 
with propaganda's artful aid. The other hogy was the 
dread that a communistic experiment might succeed in 
Russia. Rather than let that happen, they were one and 
all prepared to wage another war. 

Either from vanity or jealousy, the four heads of the 
Governments of the Allied and Associated States ap- 
pointed themselves as principal delegates at the Con- 
ference, in spite of the fact that their presence was essen- 
tial in their respective countries, where a host of meas- 
ures dealing with social legislation were already long 
overdue. Further, their incompetence and unsuitability 
for the task before them were manifest, and yet, beyond 
their decisions, there could be no appeal. Each of the 
Big Four had, at one time or another, reached place 
and power as a tribune of the people, but when they 



184 OLD EUROPE'S SUICIDE 

met in Paris they had undergone a change. Mr. Lloyd 
George had sold his soul for a mess of pottage, in the 
shape of a Parliamentary majority secured by truckling 
to reactionaries and the vulgar clamour of the Jingo 
Press. Mr. Wilson failed to make good his eloquent 
professions as an apostle of democracy; he succumbed 
to the atmosphere of Paris, and only succeeded in irri- 
tating Italy without establishing the principles for which 
he was supposed to stand. With two such men in charge 
of Anglo-Saxon policy, the triumph of M. Clemenceau ^ 
was not left long in doubt. He could count in advance 
on the support of capitalist elements in Great Britain 
and the United States ; and thus, the power and wealth 
of the British Empire and America were used by an 
aged Frenchman as a stick to beat helpless, starving 
peoples and to slake a Latin craving for revenge. A 
shameful role, indeed, for a race which has never known 
ultimate defeat and has always been magnaminous in the 
hour of victory. 

Mr. Lloyd George and President Wilson took back to 
their respective countries a settlement of European ques- 
tions of which no sensible English-speaking citizen could 
possibly approve. It was at best a liquidation of the 
war and marked an intermediate phase. The Austro- 
Hungarian Empire, as an administrative and economic 
unit, has been destroj'cd, but no serious attempt was 
made to put anything practical in its place ; Eastern 
and Central Europe have been Balkanized, and in the 
Balkans the evils of the Treaty of Bucharest have been 
consummated; frontiers and disabilities have been im- 

1 During the Conference, a well-known Pole, whose reputation for 
shrewd observation is established, remarked : "Mr. Lloyd George has a 
passion for popularity and is the most popular man in Paris, but the 
'Tiger' is running the British Empire." 



LOOKING BACK AND FORWARD 185 

posed upon the German people which have aroused a 
widespread irredentism and cannot be maintained; the 
policy of intervention against the Soviet Government 
in Russia has been immoral and inept, while the vac- 
illation in regard to Turkey cannot fail to have 
serious repercussion throughout the whole Mohammedan 
world. 

A state of moral anarchy has been created, both in the 
conquered and victorious States. In France, sane opin- 
ion is unable to control the activities of roving generals 
obsessed with the Napoleonic legend ; in the United States 
the general tendency is to leave Europe to its fate, but 
disgust with European diplomatic methods has not pre- 
vented certain forms of imitation; in Great Britain, 
irresponsible politicians have brought discredit on our 
Parliamentary system, the House of Commons does not 
represent the more serious elements in the coun- 
try, labour is restless and dissatisfied, and even mod- 
erate men are tempted to resort to unconstitutional 
methods, to "direct action," as the only means of ob- 
taining recognition for the workers' reasonable demands. 

The decisions of the Supreme Council of the Allies 
are without any moral sanction, because, owing to its 
past acts, the moral sense of the entire world is blunted. 
Despair and misery prevail throughout Central and 
Eastern Europe ; around and beyond the main centres of 
infection, the poison is spreading to the world's remotest 
parts; India and Northern Africa are filled with vague 
but menacing unrest. When the lassitude of war is 
passed, more serious developments must be expected: 
D'Annunzio and Bermondt are but the forerunners of 
many similar adventurers who, both in Europe and in 
Asia, will find followers and funds. 



186 OLD EUROPE'S SUICIDE 

Truly, Old Europe has committed suicide. The auto- 
cratic Empires have perished by the sword ; the Western 
States, under the rule of spurious democrats, bid fair 
to perish by the Peace. Democracy has been betrayed 
by its own ignorance and apathy, by misplaced confi- 
dence in mediocre men, by failure to be democratic, by 
permitting politicians and officials to usurp the people's 
sovereign power. 

A new danger is on the horizon. The men who 
scoffed at progress, who at first derided the League of 
Nations, and to whose influence were due the prolonga- 
tion of the Armistice and the worst features of the 
Treaties, are alarmed by the present situation. The 
official mind is seeking for a remedy, and it now pro- 
fesses to have found it in the "League of Nations," to 
which it does lip-service, meaning to use it, in the first 
place, as a buffer, and later as an instrument. These 
men do not recognize that with the downfall of the auto- 
cratic Empires materialism in its most efficient form has 
proved a failure; the fallen fortunes of Germany, Aus- 
tria-Hungary, and Russia convey no warning to them. 
They think that once again the public can be tricked. 
They have made a German peace and are so blind to 
facts that, in spite of the testimony of Ludendorff, they 
do not realize that victory was gained by peoples, who 
were unconquerable because they thought their cause 
was just. Theirs is the frame of mind of German 
"Junkers"; to them the masses are like cattle to be 
driven in a herd; they will, if given a free rein, once 
more subserve the interests of capitalists, and Govern- 
ments will be influenced by men who, having great pos- 
sessions, take counsel of selfish fears. 

A League which includes Liberia and excludes Ger- 



LOOKING BACK AND FORWARD 187 

many, Austria, Hungary and Russia, and whose covenant 
is embodied in the Peace Treaties, makes a bad start. 
The intention has been expressed of inviting Germany, 
at some future date, to become a member of the League. 
"Whether this invitation will be accepted will depend on 
circumstances; in Europe's present state of instability 
the omens are far from favourable to acceptance. A 
truly democratic Germany will be a tremendous force in 
Europe, and may find in Russia, under a Soviet Gov- 
ernment, an ally more in sympathy with progress than 
either Great Britain or the Latin Powers under reac- 
tionary governments. The Russians, once our allies, 
regard the French and British with hatred and resent- 
ment, and these same feelings animate all the nationali- 
ties on whom have been forced insulting terms of Peace. 
Poland, Czecho-Slovakia, Yougo-Slavia and the Greater 
Rumania are political experiments. These States con- 
tain men of great ability, who may, in the abstract, ac- 
cept the principles of the League, but their position is 
neither safe nor easy ; in no single case can national aspi- 
rations obtain full satisfaction without impinging on the 
territory of a neighbour, on each and every frontier fixed 
in Paris there is a pocket in dispute. It is doubtful 
whether any of the small Allied States can be considered 
trustworthy members of a League, which, while preach- 
ing internationalism, has perverted nationalism into a 
"will to power," for which conditions of membership 
are defined by conquerors, whose conduct hitherto has 
revealed an entire lack of an international spirit, save 
in regard to international finance. So many tempta- 
tions to recalcitrance exist that, if Germany remains 
outside the League, another combination might be 
formed, under German leadership, and including Russia, 



188 OLD EUROPE'S SUICIDE 

Austria, Hungary, Greater Roumania and Bul- 
garia. A combination untrammelled by self-denying or- 
dinances, compact, almost continuous, controlling the 
land routes of two continents. No limitation of its arma- 
ments could be enforced on such a combination ; it would 
have access to Russia's vast natural resources, and, if 
war came, for the first time in history, a coalition of 
belligerent States would be impervious to blockade by 
sea, 

"While the Treaties stand, and while the present frame 
of mind of the Allied Governments continues, such is 
the situation into which the world is drifting, and for 
which the Covenant of the League, as drafted, provides 
no panacea. Even the leading members of that League 
are dubious adherents to its moral implications ; each of 
them makes some reservation, not based on the prin- 
ciples of progress, but inspired by a distorted sense of 
patriotism which, in its essence, is the outcome and cult 
of private interests. 

The League of Nations was unfortunate in its birth- 
place. Throughout the Conference the frenzied merri- 
ment in Paris was characteristic of the cosmopolitan class 
which has grown up in an industrial age. These para- 
sites on the wealth of nations possess neither the spirit of 
noMess oNige nor any sympathy with the masses, and yet 
they influence affairs; they appear light and frivolous, 
as though they had no interest in life beyond dancing 
and feasting on the ruins of Old Europe, and deadening 
reflection with the discords of jazz bands; but behind 
these puppets in the show are cold and calculating men, 
who use "Society" and the atmosphere it creates to 
kill enthusiasm, to fetter and sensualize weaker minds. 
After listening to the conversation at a semi-oflSleial and 



LOOKING BACK AND FORWARD 189 

fashionable gathering last June in Paris, a French priest 
pronounced the opinion that only a second redemption 
could save the world. This old man was always char- 
itable in his judgments, he had heard the confessions 
of many sinners, but he was roused to moral indigna- 
tion by the heartless cynicism of the talk around him; 
his feelings as a Christian had been outraged, and, al- 
though the remark was made simply and without affec- 
tation, it rang like the denunciation of a prophet, the 
speaker's kind eyes kindled and his small, frail body 
seemed to grow in size. My mind went back to the 
Cathedral Church at Jassy one Easter Eve. There, for 
a time, had reigned the proper spirit; it had been fugi- 
tive, like all such moods. As Renan says: ^'On n'atteint 
I 'ideal qu'un moment." ^ 

If Europe is not to relapse into a race of armaments, 
world politics must be controlled by forces less selfish 
and insidious. A more serious element is required in 
public life, an element which will represent the innumer- 
able men and women who work with their hands and 
brains. These are the people who desire peace, who find 
and seek no profit in a state of war. They are neither 
revolutionaries nor faddists, they are workers; they 
protest against the Treaties as a flagrant violation of 
aU principles of right, as an attempt to crush the spirit 
of the conquered peoples, to visit the crimes of 
"irresponsible Governments" on the heads of innocents; 
they denounce a policy in Russia which makes the 
Russian people pariahs, and despise the men who, before 
peace had been ratified with Germany, invited collabora- 
tion in the blockade of Russia from the men they had 
called the Huns. 

1 The ideal is readied for a moment only. 



190 OLD EUROPE'S SUICIDE 

A great fact in evolution has occurred, and now man- 
kind is at the parting of the ways. Those who await a 
miracle or a hero to save them from themselves are un- 
worthy citizens and use an idle form of speech when 
they talk of a new world. Old Europe's suicide will 
culminate in world-wide chaos, unless Democracy asserts 
itself and counsels of wisdom and sanity prevail. 

Time presses. The reaction of foreign policy on the 
internal affairs of every State is becoming increasingly 
direct. Peace Treaties have been signed, but slaughter 
and terrorism continue. In Central Europe, great 
rivers, which are serene and splendid highways, are 
still defiled with human blood, still serve as barriers and 
are charged with sighs. The old discredited methods of 
' ' Secret Diplomacy ' ' are being followed and the destinies 
of peoples are still at the mercy of officials who deal in 
bargains and transactions. In Great Britain and 
France, both in the Press and Parliament, reactionary 
forces have got the upper hand. As a consequence, 
trade is paralysed, and human misery exists on an un- 
precedented scale. 

While these conditions last, peace will be precarious. 
But the next war will not be made by nations ; it will be 
civil war, the misgoverned will rise against their rulers 
and the foundations of our social fabric will rock. The 
workers in all lands have realised, at last, that their 
interests are the same, and that the greatest war in 
history was, from their point of view, an internecine 
struggle. Only the purblind or the reckless ignore this 
fact. 

But, portentous as it is, this fact is the one redeeming 
feature of the present situation, since it is the expression 



LOOKING BACK AND FORWARD 191 

of a change of spirit, and the first step towards more 
rational relationships between the nations. Despair 
would be justified indeed if pride and prejudce and 
greed permeated the masses as they do the classes, if 
the doctrines preached by Jingo newspapers or the 
conversation in certain classes of society were 
correct indices of the thoughts and ideals of our gener- 
ation. 

Fortunately, this is not the case. Five years of war 
have been a purifying blood-bath, they have taught 
innumerable men and women, through suffering, to 
think. 

A clamour of voices has arisen; their cry is "For- 
ward" and is uttered by millions of exasperated people, 
become articulate since the war. From every quarter 
comes the tramp of hurrying feet, a mighty movement 
is in progress. It cannot, like "sleeping waters," be 
pent up, but its purpose is not destructive. It seeks a 
useful outlet for a vast store of human energy, a freer, 
wider life for manual workers, too long the victims of 
exploitation, whose hearts and hands are needed to turn 
the new world's mill. 

All lovers of freedom are in this movement; they are 
of every race and creed and possess the true inter- 
national spirit, whose aim is progress. Not progress 
towards some impossible Utopia, where human nature 
plays no part, but progress by ordered stages towards a 
more reasonable social system, wherein the few will not 
exploit the many and unscrupulous efiiciency will be 
held in check ; wherein idealism will count a little and 
mankind, taught by adversity, will no longer wish to be 
deceived ; wherein * * plain people, ' ' however humble, will 



192 OLD EUEOPE'S SUICIDE 

shake off the shackles of apathy and indifference to 
moral issues, and claim their birth-right. 

•«• ^ ^ gp ^ 

Egyptian monarchs built pyramids as tombs. Old 
Europe, during the process of its suicide, built up a 
pyramid of errors which may well serve, not only as 
the tomb of mediaeval systems, of false conceptions, but 
also as a monument to remind succeeding generations of 
the errors of the past. 

A pyramid is a structure whose form is final, just 
bare, blank walls converging to a point, and there it 
ends, offering a symbol of that human pride which dares 
to set a limit to the progress of mankind. 

Progress admits of no finality. Filled with the senti- 
ment of progress and standing on the ground of fact, 
humanity can look forward and ever upward, and thus 
can rear a nobler edifice — a temple broad-based on lib- 
erty and justice, whose columns are poised on sure 
foundations, columns that soar and spring eternal, em- 
blems of youth and hope. 



THE END 



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